#aurelien lore

[emjayewrites]

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (2/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @whoevenisthiz, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @elyseesarchive, @enretrogue, @2serenity0, @yeea-nah, @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce @sailurmewn

A/N: I know that I said that I am no longer writing but I promised a mutual that this would happen. There’s changed to actual events in order for this timeline to work (i.e. Spanish Grand Prix happening on June 21st). Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

CHAPTER 2: Le Français

"Je suis une femme," YN repeated after her Duolingo owl, spooning mushy oatmeal into her mouth. After that kiss last night, learning French seemed like the logical next step.

The fluffy hotel robe did little to cool down her overheated skin, even after a shower so cold it could rival an Arctic expedition. She was down astronomically bad, and it was all because of Jules Koundé.

"Jules. Koundé." She tested the name on her tongue. Jhool Koon-day. Even his name was sexy, all masculine energy and French sophistication.

They always said French men were the best lovers. Though Enzo had definitely set a high bar for the Italians - especially that night with Carina. YN had gotten more action in the past week than in her entire relationship with Damari.

Don't think about Damari and his boring, porn-educated ass, both her rational and intrusive thoughts agreed. She had to come to a whole different continent to get properly dicked-down without using her beloved Rose.

"Well, RIP Rose," she saluted her trusty vibrator back home. "You served me well, but after this summer? Retirement."

Her phone buzzed twice:

Jules 🇫🇷: 30 minutes. Can't wait to see you 😚

LewLew Bean: How's Germany treating you? 👀 Also - you free July 7th? Silverstone race. We need to catch up

She checked her calendar quickly - no conflict with Jules' matches.

YN to LewLew Bean: Germany is… interesting 😏 And yes! Count me in for Silverstone!

LewLew Bean: "Interesting" = You're already causing trouble aren't you? Good. That's what I taught you 😌

YN to Jules 🇫🇷: Can't wait! See you soon 😘

Sliding off the bed, she rifled through her closet before pulling out a white halter-neck tennis dress. She paired it with Adidas Court Bolds and the "FRANCE" cap she'd bought last night during her post-kiss vape-and-pace session at the corner store (the horniness had been THAT real).

A knock at her door sent her heart racing. One last finger-comb through her hair, another swipe of lipgloss, grab the Constance, make sure she has her phone and hotel key card—

Jules stood there in his national team tracksuit, dreads pulled back in pigtails, looking unfairly cute and sexy at the same time. His eyes did a slow scan from her feet up, lingering on her lips.

"Morning."

"Morn–" was all she managed before his lips claimed hers, drawing a soft hum from her throat. When he pulled back, he nipped her bottom lip, making her gasp.

"You're such a nasty freak," she said in wonderment.

Jules just chuckled. "Let's go, ma belle."

YN let him guide her to the elevator, very aware of his hand at the base of her spine, hovering dangerously close to her ass.

In the lobby, Jules kept one hand on her lower back as they chatted about breakfast ("Mushy oatmeal? I'll take you somewhere proper tomorrow"). Before sliding into the waiting SUV, he opened her door - ever the gentleman - then delivered a firm pat to her ass that was anything but gentlemanly.

Did this man just… That wasn't just a pat, that was a whole statement of intent.

The drive to the stadium was a blur of Jules explaining the tournament structure while YN tried not to fixate on how that simple touch had reignited every nerve ending in her body.

"So quarter-finals next week, then semis next if you win?" She tried to focus on the actual conversation.

"Oui. Then hopefully the final in Berlin." His confidence was infectious.

The Merkur Spiel-Arena rose before them, all modern architecture and gleaming glass. Jules led her through the VIP entrance, up several elevators, until they reached the highest level of the stadium.

"This is my favorite spot," he said, leading her to the edge. The morning sun cast long shadows across the pristine pitch below. "You can see everything from up here."

"It's really nice."

"Your cap is cute," he nodded at her tourist shop purchase. "But we need to get you proper Les Bleus gear. Jersey maybe?"

From their perch, Jules spotted movement below in the corner of his eye. He yelled out something in French that had YN weak in the knees, even if she had no idea what it meant, and the people yelled something back.

"Who's that?" YN squinted at the tiny figures running drills below. "They look like very athletic brown blobs to me. My eyesight is garbage. I'm basically blind past ten feet."

"My teammates," Jules explained, turning back towards her. "Want to meet them?"

Oh wow… now we're being introduced to his teammates? Personal much? her rational thoughts chimed in.

This is solid, meaning he wants to fuck you. For real! Get 'em girl! her intrusive thoughts countered.

After using the elevator to head down, they walked through the tunnel onto the pitch, and the first player to bound over was pure sunshine energy. His micro dreads bounced as he jogged up, grinning like an excited puppy.

"Cama!" Jules dapped him up. "This is YN."

Camavinga was cute - all bright eyes and boyish charm. But her horn-o-meter barely registered a 3. Sweet, but not the kind to make her pussy throb.

And then he approached.

Where Jules gave off "runway model who'll make love to you by the fireplace with a few kinks up his sleeve" energy, this man emanated pure male BDE - the type to choke you out while calling you a worthless little slut and spit in your mouth.

Tall, dark-skin, lean but muscled, shirtless (Lord help her), with hair styled in a high-taper fade and features that belonged in a high fashion campaign. His walk was pure predator, all confident swagger.

Jules dapped him up as well. "YN, this is Aurélien."

Aw-ree-lee-an.

The way Jules said his name, all French pronunciation, had her hot and bothered before Aurélien even opened his mouth. His name matched him perfectly - regal but with an edge, like expensive dark chocolate with a little spicy kick.

Aurélien's gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her mouth go dry. "What's up?"

YN's brain froze. Actual words failed to form. "I-I…"

Jules giggled (literally!) at her obvious short-circuit while Aurélien's mouth quirked into a knowing smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew he had her hook, line, and sinker.

Well fuck, her intrusive thoughts swooned. Looks like the roster just got another spot.

"So you're the singer Jules won't shut up about," Aurélien's voice was impossibly deep, his French accent richer and darker than Jules'. Every word felt like honey dripping down YN's spine.

"That's me," she managed, proud her voice didn't crack.

Cama launched into rapid-fire questions about her music, while Jules kept his hand protectively at her waist. But Aurélien… Aurélien just watched.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, teeth worrying it as his eyes tracked her every movement. Even when she was focused on answering Cama's enthusiastic questions about her tour, she could feel that intense gaze.

"Your song about identity struggles," he suddenly cut in, his deep voice making everyone else pause. "It's really dope."

Lord, even when he's being vulnerable he sounds like he wants to rail you against a wall, her intrusive thoughts screamed.

"The bridge of that song," his tongue made another appearance, "it's tough."

"I-" YN started, but her brain was barely working as he finally broke into a full smile.

Roster status: CONFIRMED, her intrusive thoughts declared. Hot Girl Summer just leveled up.

"We should let you guys get back to practice," Jules said, a note in his voice that YN couldn't quite read. "I'll see you both at dinner?"

DINNER? With both of them?

Aurélien's smirk returned. "Wouldn't miss it."

As Jules led her away, she could still feel those eyes following her. YN's thoughts were still racing about Aurélien - that intense gaze, the way his tongue worried at his bottom lip, how his voice seemed to vibrate through her entire body. The man was dangerous in the best possible way. Maybe she could–

Her internal monologue cut short as Jules suddenly backed her against the tunnel wall, caging her in. His expression was unreadable — a mix of amusement, intensity, and something darker that made her pulse quicken.

"Jules?" she wondered with wide eyes.

"I knew it would happen." He shook his head, letting out an almost skeptical chuckle.

"What are you—"

"You feeling Auré?" YN's lips pursed together. "It's okay if you are, I'm not mad."

"But you're pinning me to a wall says otherwise..."

He removed his hands from either side of her face and moved back. "Désolé."

"'S'fine."

Jules cleared his throat. "Auré and I go way back - we knew each other since teenagers playing for Girondins in Bordeaux. Him and I...it always happens." Another laugh, then his eyes hardened with intensity. "We tend to like the same girl....a lot."

"Oh?" YN said, eyebrows furrowing, encouraging him to continue.

"Our type is the exact same so what can you expect? I just never...well actually no, this makes sense."

"Wait, how did you know that he likes me?"

Jules just gave her a look that screamed Woman, are you fucking blind?

"You're grown, so I won't go off and say it's me or him, that's pathetic as fuck. I just want honesty, however."

"On?" YN asked, sass creeping into her voice.

"If you fuck him or not."

"Why does that even matter?"

Jules moved close again, his brown eyes never leaving hers, except for a brief glance at her lips. "Because I want to fuck you too."

I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!! her intrusive thoughts screamed in victory.

Fuck... her rational thoughts whispered.

YN stood there, thoroughly shook. Summer of YN had just taken an unexpected turn.

_______________________________________________

YN paced her hotel balcony, taking desperate pulls from her CBD vape like it was a lifeline. Her hands were shaking slightly as she pulled up Lewis' contact.

He answered on the second ring. "I know that tone. You got tea." Always the gossiper.

"I'm having a crisis."

"Miles and Roscoe are with me – want me to call back?"

"No, put me on speaker. I need all the guy perspective I can get."

"Huge fan, by the way," Miles' British accent chimed in.

Any other day, two British accents would have her swooning. Today? She was too stressed to even notice.

"Go 'head," Lewis encouraged.

She spilled everything — the kiss with Jules, meeting Aurélien, the tunnel confrontation, her and Jules' heated makeout session before he left for practice. "I should be getting ready for the match but instead I'm out here having an anxiety attack!"

Lewis was quiet for a moment. "Shit. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"Don't mock me!"

"I'm deadass."

"You not gonna fuck 'em both, are you?" Miles asked. "They're best friends."

She heard Lewis murmur something about "like how we shared Corinne…"

"Oh that was fun," Miles reminisced, "but I don't think this is the same, bruv."

"Hello? What about ME?!" YN screeched.

"Fuck them both," Lewis said simply.

YN's eyes bugged out cartoon-style. "Lewis!! Did you not just hear what I said–"

"It's your Hot Girl Summer, right? You're getting your lick back and exploring all the things you weren't given by that limp-dicked motherfucker. Fuck. Them. Both. But use protection."

"Oh fuck, bruv," Miles laughed. "YN, maybe they want you to do that? Usually code for wanting a threesome. You don't have to if you're uncomfortable. Most guys–"

"I already did that, Miles." Another deep inhale of CBD.

"Holy fuck, when?" Lewis demanded.

"In Florence… 'member Enzo? I… uh… kinda slept with him and his friend, Carina…"

"Oh wow, a girl? So 'What They Don't Know' is really true?" Miles asked.

"Well, more bi-curious but Carina's tits were insane and she could even — you know what, let's not get distracted. Yes, I did it before. Now, do I want to do it again? Maybe. Depends how it comes about but I don't want to ruin their friendship."

"If they have the same type, I'm certain it happened before," Lewis reasoned.

"Plus Jules just wants honesty," Miles added. "Said he respects if you sleep with Aurélien. Ball's in your court."

By the time she hung up, YN was somehow more confused than before. But her shoulders felt lighter.

Now she just had to figure out what to wear to this damn match. After two more puffs from her vape, she went back into her room and got dressed.

An hour later, YN studied her reflection, adjusting the Les Bleus jersey Jules had given her. The fabric felt expensive, custom-fit. She paired it with high-waisted jeans that made her ass look fantastic - if she was going to have two French footballers eyeing her, she might as well give them something to look at.

In the car, she deep-dived their Instagrams. Jules' feed was pure fashion editorial — designer fits, artistic shots in Paris and Barcelona, the occasional shirtless workout pic that made her bite her lip. His captions were thoughtful, sometimes poetry in French that had her reaching for Google translate. Meanwhile, Aurélien's grid screamed quiet confidence — training videos where his muscles rippled, candid shots with that intense gaze, photos with his family that somehow made him even sexier. Both their comment sections were thirsty as hell, but neither seemed to engage with the attention.

JULES: Pros:

Those dreads and that smile that haunted her dreams

French model vibes with the fashion sense to match

Already kissed (and LORD what a kiss)

Gentleman in streets, freak in sheets energy

Actually listens when she talks, remembers details

That swagger when he walks

Speaks three languages fluently

Likes her music (actually listens to it)

Cons:

Not usually her type physically

Athlete (still trying to break that habit)

Best friends with potential other dick appointment

Might be too smooth for his own good

AURÉLIEN: Pros:

Tall dark and handsome (her exact type)

That VOICE could make her pregnant just listening

Those EYES that seem to see right through her

Built like a Greek god with abs for days

BDE off the charts

Probably throws it down like a champion

Quiet confidence that screams "I can ruin you"

Has a cute dog (Ocho gets extra brownie points)

Cons:

Athlete

Best friends with current makeout partner

Might be too intense

Haven't even kissed yet (but lord does she want to)

Probably knows exactly how hot he is

The stadium was a madhouse. French fans had taken over one end, their chants echoing across the pitch. She filmed some of the pre-match atmosphere for Big Kyle ("Girl what in the soccer hell are you doing?" he texted back) and her mama ("Get you one of them fine men baby!").

When the teams lined up, her breath caught. Jules and Aurélien stood next to each other, both in their element. Jules caught her eye and winked while Aurélien's gaze was pure heat – a deadly combination that had her squirming in her seat.

The match itself was intense. She found herself actually getting into it, screaming at calls she didn't understand and filming Jules' defensive masterclass and Aurélien's midfield dominance.

"This sport is all edge, no release," she muttered in annoyance during halftime.

France's goal in the 85th minute sent the stadium into chaos. She jumped up with everyone else. The team celebration was pure joy – until she caught sight of Jules and Aurélien, shirts clinging with sweat, muscles pumped from exertion.

I'm in trouble, she thought, crossing her legs.

Her pussy throbbed in agreement.

_______________________________________________

YN waited in the designated area, trying not to stare at the crowd of women who looked like they'd stepped straight out of a Fashion Nova ad. All skin-tight dresses and platform heels, clutching jerseys and phones.

This must be the WAG recruitment section.

Aurélien emerged first, fresh from the showers in ripped jeans and a Dior tee, topped with Virgil's Nike collab.

"RIP Virg," YN said automatically, nodding at his feet. "I've got the same pair."

His eyes lit up. "You know about Virgil?"

"Please, I cried when he passed. The Louis drops were iconic."

They fell into easy conversation about fashion until Jules appeared, also shower-fresh and designer-clad.

"Cama's staying back to play COD with Michael and Ibou," Jules announced.

Aurélien kissed his teeth, saying something in French that made Jules smirk (she really needed to learn ASAP).

Oh god, she realized as panic began to settle at the pit of her stomach. It's just us three.

The restaurant was all mood lighting and exposed brick, with intimate crescent-shaped booths. Of course she ended up sandwiched between them, Jules' thigh pressed against hers on one side, Aurélien's arm brushing her shoulder on the other.

She focused intently on her menu, then the silverware, then counting the exposed beams above - anything to distract from the heat radiating from both men.

Aurélien's throat clearing broke her concentration. "The wine here is excellent."

"Especially with the steak," Jules added, his hand finding her thigh under the table.

Her foot-in-mouth disease struck again: "Isn't this a bit awkward?"

"Only because you're making it awkward," Aurélien's voice dropped lower as his arm settled around her shoulders.

"Very awkward," Jules agreed, fingers drawing patterns on her thigh.

The waitress's arrival was both salvation and torture - salvation because it broke the tension, torture because after ordering her strongest cocktail, she was right back to being trapped between them.

Summer of YN? her intrusive thoughts purred. More like Summer of Getting RAILED.

For once, her rational thoughts didn't disagree.

"The duck here is a good choice," Jules suggested, his hand still drawing lazy circles on her thigh.

Aurélien's touch crept up her arm to the base of her neck, fingers gently caressing. "The fish too."

The dual sensation sent electricity through her body. "I have to pee!"

She practically sprinted to the bathroom after Aurélien let her out, locking herself in a stall and calling her mama.

"Mama, I'm at dinner with both of them and I don't know what to do!"

"Baby girl, listen to me," Sherelle's voice was unusually serious. "Don't make any choices tonight if you're still conflicted – not about one, not about both. Just enjoy the free meal."

"Thanks mama."

After actually using the bathroom and washing her hands, YN stared at her reflection, taking deep breaths.

She returned to find them laughing, speaking French:

"Ce but était fou!" (That goal was insane!)

"Oui, mais ton arrêt était meilleur." (Yeah, but your save was better)

"We were about to send a search party," Aurélien teased, letting her slide back in.

Jules pushed her drink closer. She muttered thanks and downed half of it.

"Damn girl," Aurélien whistled.

Jules chuckled while YN sat up straighter, trying to ignore how their hands found their previous positions - though now Aurélien was playing with her hair.

The waitress returned for their orders, both men responding with "Danke schön."

Four languages, her brain noted. Impressive.

As they ate, Aurélien showed her more pictures of his Belgian Malinois, Ocho. "He's my baby."

But their touches never stopped — Jules' hand on her thigh, Aurélien's fingers in her hair. Their eyes kept finding her, both clearly interested.

The rest of dinner was a delicious torture. YN learned that Aurélien had picked up some Italian during his time at AS Monaco, both men were well-traveled, passionate about their craft, and seemed to genuinely want to know her thoughts on everything from music to politics.

"Your take on identity in 'Quarter Life Crisis' went hard," Aurélien said, his fingers still playing with her hair. "Being Black in predominantly white spaces…"

"The pressure to conform," Jules added, squeezing her thigh gently.

They had dessert – a dark chocolate mousse that had YN trying not to make inappropriate sounds as she ate. Both men watched her lips wrap around the spoon with undisguised longing.

When the check came (which they split, waving off her attempt to contribute), YN's head was swimming from both the cocktails and the constant physical contact.

"Where to next?" Jules asked, helping her out of the booth.

"I should probably head back…" she started, but Aurélien's hand found the small of her back.

"We could get drinks at our hotel," he said, that deep voice making her shiver.

The look Jules and Aurélien exchanged wasn't lost on her. Her mama's words echoed in her head: Don't make any choices tonight if you're still conflicted.

"Rain check?" she managed.

"Sure, chérie," Jules smiled, though his eyes held heat. "Let us at least drive you back."

The car ride was silent but charged. Jules sat next to her in the back while Aurélien took the front, but she could feel both their attention on her.

Outside her hotel, they both got out to say goodnight. Jules kissed her cheek, lingering. "Sweet dreams."

Aurélien's goodbye was a whispered "À bientôt" that made her toes curl.

In her room, YN collapsed on the bed, her skin still tingling from their touches.

Her phone buzzed - a group chat had been created:

Jules 🇫🇷: Thank you for having dinner with us x

Aurélien 🌹: Sleep well, belle

I really am in deep fuckin' trouble, she thought, staring at the ceiling.

YN scrolled through her phone, some German reality show playing in the background. Her Instagram feed was flooded with footage from yesterday's match, but one post made her pause:

[Photos: YN cheering at the match, YN in Jules' jersey, zoomed shot of Jules looking her way during warmup]

Liked by theshaderoom, balleralert, and 394,197 others

PopCultureTeaaa: Grammy winner YN_YLN spotted at France vs Belgium match in Düsseldorf 👀 Wearing Les Bleus jersey and sitting pitch-side… Wonder which French player caught her attention? Sources say she was seen with defender Jules Koundé 🔥 Hot Girl Summer continues!

view all comments….

damari_rushes: Lmao anything for clout 🤡 ↳ tsrfans: You really got the nerve after what YOU did? 💀 ↳ popculture_tea: Not you in the comments when you got caught with 3 different girls ↳ ynglobal: WEREN'T YOU JUST WITH A SWIMSUIT MODEL?? Sir… ↳ chartdata: Her album about you went #1 tho 🤷🏾‍♀️ balleralert: Jules Koundé? Good upgrade sis 👏🏾 complex: W rizz sportsbible: Koundé's defense strong on and off the pitch deuxmoi: Actually saw her at dinner with TWO French players 👀

The DeuxMoi comment made her stomach flip. There were blurry shots of her with Jules, but none with Aurélien… yet. If people found out about both of them…

A knock interrupted her spiral. She adjusted her bonnet, wrapped her robe tighter, and peeked through the peephole – only to find it blocked.

"Just open the door, cherie," Jules' voice called out.

She opened it to find both men holding paper bags. "This has to be a fucking joke."

Aurélien's smirk could melt steel. "Are you gonna let us in or…"

"I'm seriously thinking against it."

Jules chuckled. "We got crepes."

The smell hit her nose and her stomach betrayed her with a growl. "Fine, but no funny business." She moved aside to let them in and watched them unpack enough food for a small army, squinting suspiciously.

They'd clearly planned this.

After washing their hands, they settled at the dining table.

"Come sit and eat, YN," Aurélien said, biting into his bacon.

"Yeah, cherie," Jules added.

YN sat between them again and they ate in silence until Jules shifted toward her. "We want to apologize about last night. We might've come on too strong. We're French, it's unfortunately in our DNA to just–"

"Go off the deep end?" YN finished, spreading jam on her croissant.

"Yeah…" Jules laughed. "Like I told you before. Auré and I have been tight since Bordeaux - that's about nine years of friendship."

"Give or take," Aurélien added.

Jules rolled his eyes fondly. "That's my bro. And dealing with liking the same girl…again… is annoying but it is what it is."

YN blinked. "So…?"

Aurélien interlaced his fingers, placing both hands on the table. "We just trying to see who should talk to you or if you could make it so much easier and just hang out with us both. Separately or together."

"Oh." Then a lightbulb went off in realization: "OH."

"I mean if you want," Jules rushed out, eyes mischievous.

"Or separately," Aurélien added.

"Either way works with us."

"Hold on," YN's mouth moved faster than her brain. "You guys… did… it… before?"

"Once or twice," Aurélien shrugged. "We were young, eighteen and twenty with some girl from Bordeaux."

"We really didn't know what we were doing," Jules admitted. "But Auré and I were talking last night after we dropped you off. Hashed some things out. Decided that if it did happen again, we should talk about it."

"And this is what you guys came up with?" They nodded and she fanned herself with a napkin. "Okay… uh… thanks for the honesty?"

"You're welcome."

"No problem."

"Can I think about all this?" YN asked. "I mean, yes to separately, but the idea of both… at the same time…. I need more time to reflect on all that."

"Sure," they chorused.

"And you guys wouldn't be mad at each other, will you?"

They laughed. "No, Jules and I are brothers for life," Aurélien smiled.

"Okay, whew…" She wiped fake sweat from her brow. "And you know this isn't serious, right? Like don't catch any feelings…" Foot, meet mouth again. "What I mean is that I'm focusing on my career and I don't want to get in any relationship right now–"

"We understand," Jules said.

"100%" Aurélien agreed.

They finished breakfast, Jules and Aurélien clearing the table like they'd done this a hundred times before.

"Got a sponsor meeting," Jules announced. "See you later?"

"Yeah, later," YN agreed before his lips found hers, his hand cradling her head. Even with Aurélien watching, the kiss made her toes curl.

"Prends soin de notre fille," (Take care of our girl) Jules told Aurélien.

Aurélien sucked his teeth, pushing him playfully before dapping him up.

Once Jules left, Aurélien's gaze found her. "Let's chill, bébé." He took her hand, leading her to the bed. He kicked off his sneakers - careful not to crease them - and lounged like he belonged there.

YN's thoughts went into overdrive. The way he moved, all casual confidence and lean muscle, had her brain shorting out. And those hands….Lord, those hands looked like they could...

"Come 'ere," he beckoned, and something about being told what to do made her melt. She lay beside him as he propped himself up on an elbow, studying her. "You're stunning, you know that?" His fingers traced her jawline. "Those eyes... that smile... the way you light up when you talk about music."

"You're handsome," she offered.

"I know." That smirk revealed an unexpected dimple on his right cheek. His cockiness should've been a red flag, but somehow it just made him more attractive.

Maybe athletes aren't ALL bad, she mused. At least these three.

We don't date them, her rational brain warned.

But fucking them? Go 'head girlfriend! her intrusive thoughts cheered.

"What're you thinking about?" His voice was pure sin - deep like aged whiskey, the kind of voice that could talk you into anything and make you thank him after.

"Nothing much." She changed the subject. "What did Jules say before he left?"

"Honest?"

"That's the best policy."

"He said to 'take care of our girl'."

YN blinked. "Wow, you guys really don't waste any time."

"We're French," he chuckled as if that explained everything. "Europeans are a little…"

"Possessive? Handsy?"

"We like what we like," he shrugged. "And we're just going off of you. Like you said at breakfast - separately until you want both. So separate it is. For however long you want to hang out with us, you're our girl."

Something about being "their girl" made her stomach flip pleasantly.

"And if I wanted to 'hang out' with other people?"

He gave her a look. "As long as it isn't anyone on the team, we're cool."

"I don't even know anyone else on the team besides you and Jules–"

"Good, let's keep it that way. No more teammates, but outside of that… sure, why not?"

"Are you going to see other–"

"Nah, I'm fine with what I have in front of me."

"Interesting."

"What can I say? I know how to share," he chuckled. "I'm a big brother, so I guess it comes with the territory."

"I saw the pictures on your IG, the ones with your siblings."

"Are you stalking me?"

"No," she said quickly. Yes.

"Yeah, I have two younger siblings. Anne-Maïsha and Yannis. Do you have any?"

YN shook her head. "Only child… at least from what I know. My dad left me and mama when I was three, so who knows?"

"I'm sorry, ma belle," he said softly, his large hand covering hers and giving it a light squeeze.

YN scoffed as memories of her absent sperm donor flooded her mind. "It's okay. Fuck him."

"Fuck him then."

Her smile had barely formed before his lips found hers. If Jules kissed like he was trying to steal her soul, Aurélien kissed like he already owned it. His lips were soft like the finest pillows, and the way he kissed was pure dominance — all teeth and tongue and promises of what that mouth could do elsewhere. When he pulled back, that smirk was deadly.

"You're going to be a problem. Aren't you?" she asked, but already knowing the answer.

"Maybe a bit," he said, truthfully. "I've been told that I make women go crazy over me."

"Wow...you're a cocky bastard."

"All cock, no bastard," he quipped then pulled her towards her for another kiss.

This kiss was hungrier, deeper. His tongue swept into her mouth as his hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer. She moaned as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, his other hand going inside her bonnet to touch her hair. Every touch felt electric, his fingertips leaving trails of fire on her skin through the thin robe.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. His eyes were dark with want, that dimple appearing again as he smirked at her dazed expression.

Best. Summer. Ever, she thought hazily, already leaning in for more.

The fro-yo place bustled with early evening energy. Jules was loading his cup with toppings - chocolate syrup, Oreos, and caramel gummies.

"You like chocolate?" YN teased.

"I love chocolate," Jules said winking at her and then slowly licking syrup from his fingers in a way that made her mouth water. The sight of his tongue sliding over his skin had her mind wandering to all sorts of inappropriate places - like how that skilled tongue would feel trailing down her neck, her stomach, between her—

"YN?! Oh my God, it is you!"

She plastered on her ‘fan smile’. The teenage girl bounced excitedly while her boyfriend looked bored.

"I love your album! It's on constant repeat!"

"Unfortunately," her boyfriend muttered, earning an elbow to the stomach.

"Can I get a picture?"

"Oh, we're kinda–"

"I'll take it, bébé," Jules offered.

The girl's excited scream nearly burst YN's eardrums. "Sorry," she whispered.

Jules turned into a whole photographer — crouching down for the perfect angle, directing them to move left, then right, catching the best lighting. He even suggested different poses, making the girl giggle as he found her best side.

"Thank you so much," she gushed to Jules, then turned to YN. "You're amazing. And your boyfriend takes great pictures!"

YN choked on air while Jules just smiled, watching them leave. "That's going to blow up online," YN said after they left. "Jules, I'm so–"

"It's okay, don't stress. Let's eat our fro-yo," he said, his accent making it sound like fwo-yoh, and YN doubled over laughing.

"Am I being bullied?" he pouted.

"Boy, don't even."

"What? You're making fun of my accent. You Americans, man," he clicked his tongue, exaggerating his French accent even more.

The cashier eye-fucked Jules as he paid, her eyes trailing over his arms in his fitted tee, but he didn't spare her a glance. YN bit back a smile.

Outside, warm summer air wrapped around them as they walked toward his hotel. Groups of people crowded the outdoor seating areas of restaurants, their laughter mixing with the sounds of clinking glasses and distant music from the bars along the Rhine.

"How was your day?"

She smiled, remembering Aurélien's kisses, how his hands had mapped her skin, the way his teeth had grazed her neck... "It was fun."

"I bet it was."

"Did Auré tell you—"

"No, we don't share details. You just look... satisfied and have a dopey-ass grin on your face."

At the crosswalk, waiting among the evening crowd, she bit her lip. "So Auré and I can do different things, right? Like... sexual stuff without you?"

"Is the world free? Sky blue?"

"Don't be a dickhead."

"Yes, you can do sexual stuff with him. I thought we covered this?"

"We did, but with you two having history–"

"If you're gonna suck his dick, just gurgle mouthwash before kissing me. Fair?"

She nodded, speechless. "What about–"

"Use a condom."

"How'd you know–"

His knowing look said everything.

Jules tossed his empty fro-yo cup in the trash, then turned to her with that devastating smile. "Now, can we stop talking about my best friend and go up to my room so you can let me lick you until you cum?"

Well shit if you put it like that, her thoughts purred. Her thighs clenched at his directness.

"Uh… sure."

"YN, cherie. Yes or no?" His voice dropped lower, making her shiver.

YES YES YES! "Oui." If only Duo could see her now...

"Merci," his eyes darkened with promise.

The hotel lobby was all marble and modern art, their footsteps echoing as they headed to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, Jules had her pressed against the mirrored wall, his lips tasting of caramel and chocolate. His tongue swept into her mouth as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer—

Ding!

Someone cleared their throat, making her and Jules jump apart, and Aurélien stood in between the doors wearing black Nike sweats and Bottega slides.

"What's up?" Jules' voice was remarkably steady as they fist-bumped.

"Nothing much. Getting my UberEats." Aurélien's smirk was pure sin. "Have fun."

YN yelped as his hand connected with her ass when she passed him, the sound echoing in the elevator. His deep chuckle followed them down the hall.

Jules' suite was pristine — floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, designer clothes carefully hung in the open closet, Rimowa luggage arranged perfectly in a corner.

"Are you good?"

"You guys are so weird."

"Yeah… just a bit." His eyes dropped to her lips, darkening again. "Now, where were we?"

Before YN could even form an answer, Jules closed the distance between them, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that made her toes curl. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise, one that sent heat pooling in her belly and her mind spinning. She gasped as his hands gripped her waist, and to her shock — and pleasure — he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. The feel of his strong arms beneath her, his body pressing against hers, made her dizzy with desire. He laid her gently on the soft mattress, hovering above her, his dreadlocks falling forward to frame his chiseled face.

Jules kissed her again, slower this time, his hands beginning their journey across her body. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her top, lifting it inch by inch until it was over her head, leaving her in just her bra. He pulled back, his eyes sweeping over her as though committing every inch of her skin to memory.

When his gaze landed on her bra, his lips quirked into a faint smile. "Take it off for me, bébé," he said, his voice a low rumble that made her shiver.

She reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp before it finally came undone. As the straps fell away, Jules’s breath hitched. Her dark, full breasts were soft and inviting, her deep brown areolas taut with arousal.

"Tu es belle," he murmured, leaning forward to press his lips to her skin. His tongue flicked over one nipple, and YN gasped, her back arching into a bow. He took it into his mouth, sucking gently, his hand kneading the other breast with firm, practiced movements. The sensation sent a jolt straight to her core, and she moaned his name, threading her fingers through his dreads to pull him closer.

Jules’s erection pressed insistently against her thigh, hard and unrelenting, but he wasn’t in a rush. He paused just long enough to coax her hips up and slid her pants down her legs, followed by her panties. Her bare pussy was exposed to him, the soft landing strip above her folds drawing his gaze.

"Mon Dieu," he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing her folds. "So pretty."

YN squirmed beneath his touch, the praise making her cheeks heat even as her arousal grew. He teased her clit with slow, deliberate circles, watching her reactions with a smug grin.

"Jules," she moaned, her voice trembling.

"I’ve got you," he assured her before stepping back to undress.

Her eyes widened as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing sculpted abs and broad shoulders. His skin was smooth and warm-toned. When his shorts and boxers dropped, her breath caught. His erection stood proud — long, thick, and with a distinct curve, the head glistening with precum. She couldn’t help the thought that raced through her mind.

It looks so delicious.

Before she could think twice, her hands reached out to touch him, her fingers grazing his abs before wrapping around his length. Jules groaned, his head falling back as her grip tightened.

"Careful," he whispered, his voice tight with restraint. "You’re driving me insane."

Tentatively, she leaned forward, her lips brushing the tip. The salty tang of his precum met her tongue, and she whimpered, eager to please. But as she took him into her mouth, her teeth grazed him slightly, and Jules hissed.

"Watch your teeth," he said gently, his fingers threading through her hair to guide her.

She adjusted quickly, finding a rhythm as she bobbed her head along his length. Jules’s groans deepened, his hips rocking slightly in time with her movements. His taste was intoxicating, a mix of salt and musk that made her want more, even as her jaw ached from the effort.

After a moment, he pulled her back, his chest heaving. "I need you to cum first," he said, his voice rough with need.

He gently pushed her back onto the mattress, spreading her thighs as he settled between them. His mouth found her again, his tongue exploring her folds with the same precision and care he’d shown her breasts. YN’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his mouth as he worked her clit with steady flicks of his tongue.

His fingers joined in, slipping inside her and curling upward to find the spot that made her cry out. YN’s legs bracketed his head, her muscles trembling as the tension in her belly coiled tighter and tighter.

"Jules, I’m—"

He groaned against her, the vibration sending her over the edge. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, her body convulsing as she cried out his name. Jules didn’t stop, lapping up everything she gave him with a reverence that made her head spin.

When she finally came down, he pulled back, his lips glistening. One hand fisted his erection as the other caressed her breast, his grip tightening as his hips bucked forward. He managed to jerk off two more times then—

"YN....putain," he groaned, his release spilling onto her stomach in hot, thick streaks. The warmth made her moan softly, her body still humming from the aftermath of her climax. Jules was breathless for a moment, his eyes fixed on her as he caught his breath. Then he smiled, soft and satisfied. "Let me clean you up."

"Okay," she said, her voice low and hazy.

He padded into the bathroom, returning with a warm towel to gently clean her. His touch was careful, his gaze tender. When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and lay down beside her, pulling her close.

"Good?" he asked, his lips brushing her temple.

"Magnifique," she murmured, making him chuckle.

"Not bad," he praised.

YN sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep pulled her under.

_____________________________________________

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows as YN stretched, her jaw still a bit sore from getting acquainted with Jules' impressive length, her thighs tingling from his expert tongue work. Dominique was right - European men were built different. She reached for Jules but found his side empty.

"Jules?"

"Bathroom," he called back. The toilet flushed, followed by running water.

He emerged in black boxers, morning wood on display, and YN couldn't help but appreciate the view.

"You're saying I'm the freak, but it's really you," he teased.

"I get down sometimes," she shrugged.

"Oh, do you?" He leaned down to kiss her, then trailed his lips to her neck. She moaned softly before he pulled back. "As much as I would love to keep going... I have to get you back to your hotel."

Reality crashed back - Hamburg, quarterfinals against Portugal.

"Got an extra toothbrush?"

"In the drawer, chérie. The blue one's new."

While brushing her teeth, she examined his skincare arsenal: La Mer moisturizing cream, Sunday Riley UFO acne treatment, Drunk Elephant vitamin C serum, and some fancy French brand she couldn't pronounce.

How does this man have better products than me?

Back at her hotel, Jules kissed her goodbye. "Team bus leaves in an hour. See you in Hamburg?"

"Yeah... though I might hang out a bit with Aurélien."

"You should," Jules smiled against her lips. "Just meet me before the match? I'll have someone bring you to the player's area."

"Not worried?"

"About Auré? Never. About Portugal? A little."

"Promise to kick Ronaldo's ass for me."

"With pleasure, chérie." One more kiss, then he was gone.

While on the elevator to her floor, she sent a text to her other French baguette:

YN to Aurélien 🌹 Dinner in Hamburg?

Aurélien 🌹 Perfect. I can give that ass another smack 😈 Been thinking about it since last night

YN You're impossible 🙄

Aurélien You like it though 😏 I'll make it worth your while, ma belle

Rolling her eyes but smiling, YN exited the elevator, walked down to her hotel room, and began to pack for Hamburg.

This summer just kept getting better.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[certainsaturn]

HERE IS AURELIEN MUSIC TASTE PLAYLIST FOR THOSE WHO NEEDS IT

[tactician]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE.  REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG, with the information of your muse,  including headcanons, etc.

pawn and arisen edition!

TAGGED BY: @sangre!! THANK YOU BREE i am so sorry it took me 1000 years to get around to this!!!! TAGGING: @godzillaahh, @famewolf and @killdragons since i know you guys have dd2 ocs and i'd love to learn their #lore! if anyone else wants to yoink this from me, feel totally free to say i tagged you, too!

the arisen

name: aurelien. nicknames: "rel" is the main one! he actually introduces himself as rel more often than his actual name. age: 32. race: human. gender: male (he/him). orientation: he's gay!!! zodiac: leo. giggle. moral alignment: chaotic neutral, but he tends to lean into goodness more often than not as his journey progresses. he can just be a total brat, so, you know. class/subclass: rel is an EXTREMELY skilled mage; healing magic and holy magic are his absolute fortes. he devotes a lot of time to studying defensive spells in particular. (he's a skilled healer in a general sense - not squeamish in the face of gore and very good at crafting medicines, antidotes and the like. naturally, he's very knowledgeable of herbs, too.) i think that he'd see success in pretty much any vocation that doesn't require him to like, face is enemies head-on, and prefers to be Far Away from the front lines. he would NOT do well as a warrior or fighter. do NOT touch him!!!! don't do it!!!! background: rel was dumped off at a temple as a baby and raised by the clergy there. it takes a village, etc etc. he was named aurelien by the head priest due to his golden blond hair. rel had a pretty good childhood within the temple, but he had a flair for the dramatic and was quite obnoxious; he never wanted to join the priesthood or practice a life of modest restraint. he got up to a LOT of mischief and was in trouble pretty much constantly with the rest of the clergy.

(and he was seriously a handful; stealing alms for personal use, pulling pranks on others, running away for days at a time, not adhering to the dress code, etc. contrary to his rather angelic appearance, he was quite the delinquent with one hell of a selfish streak.)

but there was still a lot of familial love there, and he took his studies within the temple very seriously. as such, he was a very proficient healer from a young age and helped out often, particularly with aiding ill worshippers and the like. i also definitely see him as kind of a 'leader' amongst the other orphans at the temple - and arguably quite the bad influence... but he was their champion in a lot of ways, who never backed down from speaking up for them. upon coming of age, he left the temple - because, again, him becoming a priest was a laughable concept and he really wanted to See The World - but he still sends everyone funds, medicines and gifts very often during his travels. he tends to keep this secret from others, tho, because he doesn't want to put a target on the temple, so to speak - or, worse yet, to appear 'soft.' he is also quite pious despite his ostentatious demeanor and prays often. i associate him with gold and everything it symbolises. interests/hobbies: he LOVES reading fairy tales; he loves tales of gallant knights and heroism!!! he can't RELATE to those heroes, but he thinks they're dreamy. lmao. he often dreamt of one such knight whisking away from his routine days in the temple for a grand adventure filled with excitement, which... sort of happened? kind of? vaguely? ...anyway. he is also a skilled medic and would probably do well as an apothecary. furthermore, he loves fashion and tends to want to buy all sorts of fancy, impractical clothes. lmao. he has a certain fondness for feathers and gold; a very 'angelic' sort of aesthetic. spoken languages: common! and he can communicate with dragons, ofc. profession: he is the arisen!!! he embraces his destiny to become the sovran to a pretty naive degree at first. (his initial reaction was very much like 'yes, yes, that makes complete sense - i knew i was destined for greatness!' once the more serious aspects of the role come to light, he's significantly less ridiculous and cocky about it. were it not for his main pawn, slate, and the sights that they see during their journey together, he'd probably do his best to worm out of any sort of duty whatsoever. height: ~5'3" colors: GOLDS and oranges. warmth, warmth, warmth. fruits: cherries and peaches! drinks: he likes anything sweet - juices and the like, especially if alcohol is involved. alcoholic beverages: (points at the above answer) LMFAO. i think fruit wines and sweet rums would be his drinks of choice. smokes: yes; as a teenager, rel would hide behind the temple with a pipe and would scramble to hide the smoke when one of the stricter nuns approached. fdlkdjdfkg he isn't a very heavy smoker as an adult and eventually drops the habit entirely during his travels thanks to a Certain Someone's pestering. drugs: ...yeas:) he claims it's all medicinal. it is not all medicinal. drivers license: LMAO. NO. AND THANK GOD FOR THAT. ever been arrested: every time rel gets in trouble with the law, he pulls the 'umm what? little old me? im an angel. im a Man of the Cloth!' (<- is not even a man of the cloth) and he manages to get out of it. he is a menace. but no, he has not ever been arrested. lmfao.

the main pawn

name: slate. nicknames: rel occasionally calls him 'stone,' 'stony' or 'sir stony' lmfao; it started off as an insult whenever slate was being a particular stick-in-the-mud (in rel's eyes), but it's eventually a term of teasing endearment. slate allows this from rel but will side-eye anyone else who calls him one of those stone-related names LMFAO. age: he appears to be in his mid-thirties, but... pawn moment. race: ...again, pawn moment. gender: male, he/him. orientation: definitely some form of aromantic; he has very little interest in romance and will react with total taciturnity to being flirted with by, like, 99% of people. rel is the 1% exception to this, and even that took a while and was very confusing for him. zodiac: capricorn. moral alignment: true neutral. whatever rel says, goes. class/subclass: fighter, as he is highly skilled with a shield and with adopting a more defensive fighting style - but he's fine with any vocation which allows him to get up close to the enemy and brawl, so he'd excel as a warrior, too. he doesn't do well when asked to keep at a distance, as he wants to tank hits that would otherwise be directed at rel. he would also prefer if rel didn't get in melee range as he does NOT like to see rel get hurt in any capacity. they definitely have a certain synergy. (ftr, he would probably be Okay as a thief, but he tends to be bad at stealthing - again, he is a TANK, he wants to have the enemy's attentions on him and him alone. kind of the opposite of what a thief should be doing. LMAO.) background: everything happened very quickly in regards to slate's summoning. when prompted to reach into the rift for a pawn, rel thought back to classic stories of heroism and knighthood - the sort of fairy tales and manuscripts that he read during his time in the temple. because... well, if he was to be sovran, he'd obviously need the most powerful knight to ever exist. so he wanted someone HANDSOME!!! who could serve HIM!!!! first and foremost!!! with the utmost loyalty.

...and it was actually extremely childish on rel's part!

because he didn't consider how their personalities would mesh at all in reality. rel can be a pretty selfish person, and he basically wanted someone who was selfless to an alarming degree, you know? and so this juxtaposition between his and slate's respective personalities was a hugeee issue during their initial time together. slate would go along with rel's whims without a single complaint; he would literally injure himself terribly if rel commanded it. naturally, this frustrated the highly opinionated, headstrong rel, and, for a time, he took an absolutely horrible approach to slate where he'd basically shove slate into bad circumstances in an attempt to have his loyalty break. (spoiler: it never did.) it was a source of genuine worry for rel eventually, going much deeper than him simply having a guilty conscience. the first time slate fell in battle and left rel alone, rel felt completely gutted and sick with worry; he blamed himself for pushing slate too hard and for not having the healing prowess to back him up. he knew that he could just bring slate back and scrambled to do so, but he didn't realise just how much he had come to rely on his knight and was beyond relieved to see him again. meanwhile, slate really just... had complete faith in rel, lmao. he was chilling. shit happens. he approached their relationship with a cold professionalism and he'd remind rel that he was his pawn and that his loyalty was simply part of his charge. as rel's initial frustrations gave way to genuine care and encouragement for slate to voice his honest thoughts and feelings, slate begins to defrost and come into his own. like i said before, i associate aurelien with gold; the extravagence and malleability of it. slate, on the other hand, is practical. it represents staunchness; balance and strength. those are pretty much characteristic of slate as a character. anyway, eventually, they have a very classic 'healer and tank' sort of relationship, except... very... 'someone will die!' / 'someone will definitely die.' interests/hobbies: slate is like... comically into archealogy and history. his enthusiasm for some particularly impressive ruins breaks through his usual stoic coolheadedness and it's pretty funny. he's great at foraging and really enjoys exploring the natural world. he also absolutely loves sparring, especially if rel is watching. and especially if he wins. teehee. spoken languages: common. profession: holy paladin knight-captain vibes for sure... (tho he has a #dark aesthetic lmfao) ... but he is pretty much fixated on keeping rel safe. he doesn't trust anyone else with him. NO EXCEPTIONS!!!!! height: around 6'3"! colors: where rel is warm, slate is cold. silvers and blues. fruits: he has a particular fondness for blackberries. drinks: slate likes strong, bitter drinks! he doesn't really like anything sweet, though... he will just give those drinks to rel. alcoholic beverages: slate has incredible tolerance when it comes to alcohol; he enjoys whiskeys in particular and can practically down multiple glasses of it without so much as flinching. with that said, he prefers to keep a clear head at all times, and if he feels his focus begin to wane, he will stop drinking immediately. smokes: no. he doesn't see the point of it and, when they're close enough for such things, will admonish rel for smoking anything lmfao. drugs: occasionally, but, again, he has insanely high tolerance when it comes to the influence of herbs and the like, so it's pretty much a waste to offer him anything. he'll really only Partake to humor rel, but, even then, he usually ends up being the one taking care of rel when he's zonked out. flkdlkgdfh drivers license: he can drive a carriage but isn't fond of it. again, he likes the natural world a lot, so he'd rather wander in the wilderness and stay off the roads. ever been arrested: no, but he'd like to see someone try.

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

Lady Merethe of House Sofinoy

"Now, why would I get close enough to a dragon for it to rip me apart when I could simply bombard it with spells from a distance? I've never understood that."

The children of House Sofinoy are known for their somewhat unorthodox ways of thinking, and Merethe is no exception. The youngest of the viscountess's daughters, she has no wish to follow the path laid out for her by tradition. Along with her younger brother, Aurélien, she chose a different way to fight for her people- though her weapon of choice (thaumaturgy) is much more acceptable in the eyes of their peers than Aurélien's (machinistry).

Since the end of the Dragonsong War, she's spent much of her time journeying across Coerthas, working as a mercenary and adventurer of sorts, occasionally joined by Aurélien. The two have also been known to aid the Scions and the Warrior of Light when the situation calls for it, most notably during the war for Ala Mhigo and at the Ghimlyt Dark.

Bonus, the burden of being an older sibling:

Why is it that every time someone wishes to speak with Aurélien, Merethe is the one they send to track him down and pry him away from his work for five minutes? Fury help her, if she has to interrupt her research to find him one more godsdamned time-

Stephanivien can only offer his sympathy. Wasn't his turn to babysit ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[drinkinggblood]

aurelien doodle from when he was 20-23 ish (so likee. 2010-2013 era)

twunk to weird... lanky mlp fan pipeline is real

[petrichauri]

particularly icarus graybial and whoever the two characters “irister” are!! you mention them on your twitter quite a bit, so i was wondering if there’s anywhere on your accounts i could possibly read about their backstories?

Icarus is actually my friend's character not mine!! he's one half or irister, they're shared OCs (the other half being my character, Aurelien). their lore is very disorganised i'll be honest

[crunchbuttsteak]

Okay the summer sword from DA:O has some of the funniest lore for a sword in the game.

In 8:84 Blessed, Lord Aurelien of Montsimmard, champion of the Grand Tourney of Ansburg, commissioned a sword for his youngest son Luis, who aspired to the Chevaliers. Insisting that his boy have nothing but the best, Lord Aurelien sought out the most renowned master smith in the Orlesian Empire, Vercenne of Halamshiral, who was at that time nearly eighty, and begged the old man to make the blade. Vercenne refused. His sight was failing him and he had no wish to come out of retirement. But Aurelien offered an exorbitant sum of gold, and eventually overcame the artisan's resistance.

The old master labored for several months, folding steel, honing the edge to perfection. The resulting blade was as long as a man is tall, and sharp as the tongue of any noblewoman. Vercenne proclaimed it, in a fit of irony, the "Summer Sword," since he had crafted it in the winter of his lifetime.

Lord Aurelien brought Luis with him to receive the sword from the hand of the old master. When the boy saw the Summer Sword, he turned up his nose at his father's gift: Such great two-handed blades were no longer in fashion at court. He preferred an estoc. Aurelien was mortified; he insisted that Luis carry the blade and apologized to Vercenne, but to no avail. The sword smith cursed the boy, saying that for his pride, regardless of blade he carried, he would fail anyway.

Luis was eventually knighted, and joined the ranks of the Chevaliers. In 8:98 Blessed he was appointed command of the Chevaliers in Denerim, and hoped to make a name for himself. And so he did: he was the most detested chevalier in Ferelden, well-known for his acts of depravity. In 9:1 Dragon, he met Loghain Mac Tir in battle at Avinash. Luis lost his estoc early in the fighting, became separated from his men, and ended up facing down Loghain himself armed only with the Summer Sword—which he had never before drawn. Practice might have saved him where pride did not. Loghain made short work of the pompous chevalier and took the greatsword as a trophy.

Tl;dr: it was made in Orlais for spoiled rich kid who got his daddy to buy him a good sword, but he then didn’t want it because it was out of fashion, and then when he actually tried to use it he got his ass absolutely handed to him.

[indianskateculture]

The 80 athletes who’ll take part in the first-ever Olympic skateboarding competition at Tokyo 2020 (in 2021) are now known. With 20 skateboarders each in the men’s and women’s park and street disciplines, the competition will see 18 different countries represented (in street) and 17 (in park). . . The full list of skateboarders for Tokyo 2020 (in 2021) Men’s Street Nyjah Huston (USA) HORIGOME Yuto (JPN) SHIRAI Sora (JPN) Kelvin Hoefler (Brazil) Gustavo Ribeiro (POR) Aurelien Giraud (FRA) Jake Ilardi (USA) Jagger Eaton (USA) Vincent Milou (France) Matt Berger (CAD) Manny Santiago (Puerto Rico) Shane O’Neill (AUS) Angelo Caro Narvaez (Peru) Felipe Gustavo (BRA) AOKI Yukito (Japan) Giovanni Vianna (Brazil) Micky Papa (CAD) Axel Cruysberghs (Belgium) Luis Jhancarlos Gonzalez Ortiz (COL) Brandon Valja Men’s Park Heimana Reynolds (USA) Cory Juneau (USA) Luiz Francisco (BRA) Pedro Barros (BRA) Zion Wright (USA) Keegan Palmer (AUS) Oskar Rozenberg (SWE) Pedro Quintas (BRA) Ivan Federico (Italy) Steven Pineiro (PUR) Alessandro Mazzara (Italy) Vincent Matheron (FRA) Jaime Mateu (Spain) Kieran Woolley (AUS) HIRANO Ayumu (Japan) Tyler Edtmayer (GER) Danny Leon (Spain) Andy Anderson (CAD) Rune Glifberg (DEN) Dallas Oberholtzer (SA) . Women’s Street - . Pamela Rosa (BRA) Rayssa Leal (BRA) NISHIMURA Aori (JPN) Leticia Bufoni (BRA) NISHIYA Momiji (JPN) Mariah Duran (USA) Roos Zwetsloot (NED) Candy Jacobs (NED) Hayley Wilson (AUS) NAKAYAMA Funa (JPN) Alexis Sablone (USA) Keet Oldenbeuving (NED) Margielyn Arda Didal (Philippines) Alana Smith (USA) ZENG Wenhui (China PR) Lore Bruggeman (BEL) Julia Brueckler (Austria) Charlotte Hym (FRA) Asia Lanzi (Italy) Boipelo Awuah (SA) . Women’s Park - . OKAMOTO Misugu (JPN) YOSOZUMI Sakura (JPN) Sky Brown (GBR) Poppy Starr Olsen (GBR) Lizzie Armanto (FIN) HIRAKI Kokona (JPN) Bryce Wettstein (USA) Dora Varella (Brazil) Isadora Rodrigues Pacheco (BRA) Brighton Zeuner (USA) Jordyn Barratt (USA) Yndiara Asp (BRA) Julia Benedetti (Spain) Lilly Stoephasius (GER) Xin Zhang (China PR) Madeleine Larcheron (FRA) Amelia Brodka (POL) Josefina Tapia Varas (Chile) Bombette Martin (GBR) Melissa Williams (SA) . #thankyouskateboarding #skateboardingisfun (at Tokyo Olympic Games 2021) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQ1KBYtlSz4/?utm_medium=tumblr

[emjayewrites]

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (3/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @judesvirtual, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @pepfectionary, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @enretrogue, @judesprxncess, @yeea-nah @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce

CHAPTER 3: Another One, Thank You!

Hamburg greeted YN with unexpected sunshine and a hotel room with a view of the harbor. She'd barely finished unpacking when her phone buzzed:

Aurélien 🌹 Settled in? I'm taking you somewhere nice tonight

YN Define 'nice' 🤔

Aurélien You'll see. Wear something that shows off what you want me to touch later 😏

YN's mouth went dry. The man did not believe in subtle flirting.

YN And if I want you to touch everything?

Aurélien Then why did you wanna get dinner? We could've just chilled in my room

"Touché," she muttered.

Her phone buzzed again, this time the group chat:

Jules 🇫🇷 You good YN?

Aurélien 🌹 Taking YN to Heimat tonight

Jules 🇫🇷 Good choice. Those views 👌🏾 Treat her well but not too well, I need her tomorrow 😌

YN I'm right here! 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 We know 😈

These men are going to be the death of me. She was about to respond when an Instagram notification caught her eye:

deuxmoi: SPOTTED: Grammy winner YN_YLN with French football star Jules Koundé at froyo spot in Düsseldorf! A source says they looked "very cozy" 👀 [Fan photo attached]

view all comments...

popculture_daily: The way he's looking at her though! 🔥 ynglobaldom: MY QUEEN WINNING chartdata: Her power>>> gossipgirl2024: Wait didn't you say you saw her with TWO French players? Drop the tea sis

Shit. I have to keep this lowkey.

For what? her intrusive thoughts challenged. Men get seen with different women all the time. Did Damari hide his fun?

That makes you no better than him! her rational side countered. Keep it under wraps.

She had to agree — the potential scandal of being seen with both of them...

Though part of her wanted to say fuck it. Why should she hide?

"Because being famous is annoying sometimes," she muttered, unpacking her suitcase and arranging her outfits in the closet. She plugged in her essential oil diffuser — lavender to calm her nerves — and lined up her skincare on the marble bathroom counter.

The challenge: what to wear for dinner with Aurélien? Something that said "I'm sexy but not desperate for dick" even though she was, in fact, kind of desperate for his. After twenty minutes of trying on different options, she settled on a black silk slip dress that hit mid-thigh – classy but with enough potential to make his eyes darken.

A quick shower to freshen up, then she wrapped herself in the hotel's fluffy robe and started her getting-ready playlist. Her favorite songs filled the room as she did her makeup, singing along while blending her eyeshadow:

"I might kill my ex, not the best idea… His new girlfriend's next, how'd I get here?"

She switched to Beyoncé as she curled her hair: "I'm warning who I bring to this dinner…"

How appropriate, she thought, pinning half her curls up to show off her neck.

By 8PM, she was applying a final coat of lipgloss when a knock echoed through the suite. Her heart, and pussy, jumped.

She opened the door to find Aurélien looking edible in a fitted black button-down and slacks. His eyes did that slow drag over her body that made her feel like prey - in the best way.

"Beautiful," he said, his signature smirk appearing. "Ready?"

"Let me grab my bag."

His hand found the small of her back as they walked to the elevator - always touching, always claiming space.

Heimat had good lighting and harbor views, and their corner table was intimate without trying too hard. Aurélien pulled out her chair, then sat close enough that his knee pressed against hers.

"So," he reached for the wine list, "besides being an incredible singer and looking gorgeous, what else should I know about YN?"

"You tell me what you want to know."

"Everything." No hesitation. His directness made her flush.

Over wine and appetizers, she learned he was obsessed with basketball ("Knicks till I die, but Lakers when they're good"), played the piano, and had strong opinions about American culture.

His hand had migrated to her thigh, but his touch wasn't purely sexual – he squeezed gently when she talked about her music, traced patterns when she mentioned her mom, and pulled back when she tensed discussing her past.

"That's why the Browns are gonna have a trash season," he said when Damari came up.

"You follow American football?"

"Enough to know your ex is gonna be riding the bench," Aurélien said simply. "But his loss is my gain."

"Our gain," she corrected.

"Ah yes, can't forget Jules." He grinned.

The conversation flowed easily - from childhood dreams to current goals, favorite books to worst dates. He was surprisingly funny, dropping deadpan jokes that had her snorting into her wine.

"Did you know," he said seriously, "that Jules sleepwalks?"

"No way."

"Once found him trying to make a sandwich in his sleep. Completely naked."

By dessert, she'd learned more about him than she expected - how his eyes crinkled when he really smiled, how he gestured with his hands when excited about a topic, how his thumb would stroke her skin absently while he listened.

"Want to take a walk?" he suggested after paying. "The harbor's pretty at night."

"You just want to get handsy."

"Always." That smirk again. "But I also want to explore with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Explore what exactly?"

His hand found her lower back again. "Whatever you want, ma belle."

The harbor lights danced on the water as they walked, Aurélien's hand never leaving her waist. He stopped at a quieter spot, turning her to face him.

"Been wanting to do this properly," he murmured, cradling her face. His kiss was different from the hungry ones he usually gave - slow, deliberate, commanding in its patience. He took his time exploring her mouth until her knees went weak.

When he pulled back, she couldn't help the foolish grin spreading across her face.

"Look at that smile," he teased, thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Cute."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, still grinning.

"Would it be crazy if I asked you to spend the night?"

Her first instinct was yes, but then memories of Jules from last night flooded back. Did this make her… a whore? Going from one man's dick to potentially another's?

Girl, who cares? her intrusive thoughts chimed in. It's YOUR hot girl summer.

"I should be honest," she started. "Jules and I…"

"I know," he said softly. "Saw you both in the elevator, remember? Look, this is a lot - physically, emotionally. We go at your pace."

She nodded slowly. "Then… yes. I'd like to stay."

They swung by her hotel for essentials - bonnet, skincare, tomorrow's clothes (and maybe some sexy underwear, just in case).

The Westin Elbphilharmonie towered over the other side of the harbor, all glass and waves meant to mirror the water below. Aurélien's suite was minimalist luxury - cream furnishings, huge windows, and a balcony that made the city look like scattered stars.

"Make yourself at home," he said, taking her overnight bag.

Her heart raced. No turning back now.

Aurélien set her overnight bag on the chaise while YN slipped off her sandals, placing her purse on the bedside table.

"Ever seen Pineapple Express?" he asked, scrolling through the hotel's movie selection.

"Obviously. I'm not uncultured."

His laugh echoed off the suite's walls. "Good. Because I quote this movie way too much."

He turned the movie on and then made his way to the kitchenette - his gait full of unwavering swagger - to place a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

They settled into comfortable silence on the bed, sharing buttery popcorn while Seth Rogen descended into drug dealer chaos. Around the time James Franco started saying "Thug Life," YN decided to start her nighttime routine.

Opening her overnight bag, she grabbed her essentials: makeup wipes, CeraVe cleanser, toner, essence, vitamin C serum, moisturizer, and face oil. But as she started removing her makeup in the bathroom, the anxiety hit like a wave.

Whore. Slut. Can't even wait a day between men.

Her hands trembled as she tried to remove her lashes. The DeuxMoi post kept flashing in her mind - what if people found out about both of them? She wasn't really a whore, was she? Just... exploring. Finding herself. Why did that make her bad?

"YN?" Aurélien's soft knock startled her. "You good? Been in there a while."

"Yes," she squeaked, but her reflection showed panic in her eyes. She gripped the counter, trying to count breaths like her therapist taught her.

The door opened. Aurélien took one look at her and his whole demeanor shifted - the cocky swagger replaced by gentle concern.

"Panic attack?" He stepped closer, fingers finding her pulse point. His protector mode was sweet, though she wished she wasn't seeing it like this.

No shit, she thought, but couldn't speak.

Without a word, he reached for a shower cap, carefully removing each bobby pin from her curls. "Sit," he guided her to the toilet seat.

The shower started running, steam slowly filling the room. He disappeared, returning with her bonnet.

First the shower cap, then the satin bonnet, his movements impossibly gentle for such large hands as he placed them on her head, ensuring each tendril of hair was securely covered.

His eyes met hers. "Can I take off your clothes?" She gave him a look. "It's for the shower," he explained. "Warm showers will help."

She nodded, letting him care for her in this unexpected way.

Aurélien's hands reached for the zipper of her dress. His usual intensity was replaced by something softer - each movement careful, protective.

"Arms up," he murmured, and she complied, letting him pull the silk over her head. Instead of his usual hungry gaze, his eyes held only concern.

This man who looks like he could break hearts for sport, her rational thoughts marveled, is treating me like I'm made of glass.

He unhooked her bra with practiced ease, but there was nothing sexual in the way he helped her step out of her underwear. His touch remained clinical, respectful.

"Temperature good?" he asked, guiding her toward the steam.

She nodded, watching as he rolled up his sleeves to test the water himself. This was a different Aurélien from the one who smirked and made suggestive comments, who exuded raw sexuality. This was the big brother who protected his siblings, the friend who looked out for Jules.

"You don't have to stay," she managed.

"I know." He helped her into the shower. "But I want to."

Maybe, her rational thoughts whispered, we've underestimated him. Maybe there's more here than just physical attraction.

The warm water began to calm her racing heart, and with it came a new understanding: Aurélien Tchouaméni was full of surprises.

"Can I join you?" he asked softly.

She bit her bottom lip, nodding. Her eyes couldn't help but follow as he undressed, appreciating how the muscles in his chest flexed, how his dark skin seemed to glow in the bathroom's soft light, and how gorgeous his penis and testicles were when his boxers fell to the floor. But where normally he'd smirk at her obvious appreciation, now he remained focused on her well-being.

He stepped into the shower, reaching for the hotel's body wash. The scent of lavender filled the steam as he worked the soap between his palms, then started with her shoulders. His strong fingers found knots she didn't even know she had, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

Working down her arms, then her hips, his touch remained therapeutic rather than teasing. He squatted to massage her thighs and calves, his hands firm but gentle on her tired muscles.

"Better?" he asked, looking up at her through wet lashes.

The anxiety was melting away under his careful attention, replaced by something warmer, deeper than just attraction.

Oh, she thought. This could be dangerous in a whole different way.

YN woke to Aurélien's soft snores in her ear, his arm heavy around her waist. His t-shirt swallowed her whole, smelling like his cologne. Last night after the shower, she'd barely managed to pull it on before passing out, emotionally drained.

At least I didn't drool, she thought, becoming very aware of his morning wood pressing against her ass. She stretched - trying to reach her phone on the nightstand.

His arm tightened, grinding closer. "Ne bouge pas, ma belle," (Don't move, beautiful) he muttered, voice impossibly deeper and raspier in the morning. His stubble scratched her cheek as he nuzzled closer.

Even sleeping he's cute as fuck, both her thoughts agreed.

She rolled her eyes despite smiling. Being little spoon was nice, but she needed her phone. One more stretch and - success!

7:30 AM. Notifications lit up her screen:

Mama 💕 Baby girl your crystals told me you had anxiety last night. Did you use that lavender oil I packed? Mercury isn't even in retrograde so this is weird. Light some sage when you can 🌟✨ Also use protection! 😘

Big Kyle You good? Haven't heard from you. These European men treating you right or do I need to catch a flight? 🤨 Send me your location just in case. Love you kid

LewLew Bean Hope Hamburg's treating you well. Saw that DeuxMoi post, don't stress about it. People always talk, let them. Roscoe says hi! [photo of his dog attached]

She smiled at their different approaches - her mom's spiritual advice, Big Kyle's protectiveness, and Lewis just being... Lewis.

Last night's panic attack embarrassed her; breaking down in front of Aurélien wasn't exactly hot girl summer behavior. But seeing his gentler side, how naturally he switched from sexy to protective…

His snoring hitched, arm pulling her closer. "Dors, bébé." (Sleep, baby)

Man has a point, she thought, putting it back on the charger.

YN snuggled deeper into Aurélien's embrace, letting his snores lull her into that peaceful space between sleep and wakefulness. It reminded her of how Damari used to—

No.

No more thoughts about that untalented bench warmer. Her summer was for better things now. Like the way Aurélien's arm tightened around her whenever she moved. Or how Jules' kisses made her dizzy. Or whatever other adventures Europe had in store.

Four weeks left. The thought nagged at her. Maybe she should make the most of it - take a little detour before the semi-finals? Visit Lewis early, see what Silverstone was about? Or maybe hit up another city first, then see Lewis?

What about our French boys? her intrusive thoughts demanded. Can't just leave them hanging!

But she wouldn't be leaving, not really. Just… expanding her horizons. She'd be back for the semis, back to see which of them could make her toes curl faster. Besides, wasn't that the whole point of hot girl summer? Freedom to do whatever - and whoever - she wanted?

I'll tell them later, she decided. After I figure out where I want to go.

Aurélien mumbled something in French against her neck, pulling her closer.

But right now, she thought, closing her eyes, right now I'm exactly where I want to be.

______________________________________________

The Hamburg Arena hummed with pre-match energy as YN made her way through the VIP corridors. She spotted Aurélien talking to Cama, catching his wink when she waved.

Then she saw Jules - or rather, felt him before she saw him. He rounded the corner in his pre-match warmup gear, dreads pulled back, all focused energy until his eyes landed on her. That intense game face melted into a smile that made her legs wobble.

"There's my girl," he said, closing the distance between them. His hand found her waist immediately, guiding her toward a private alcove. There was something different about match-day Jules — a coiled energy that made him seem even more dangerous than usual.

"Are you doing okay?" His eyebrows creased with worry. "Auré told me you had an anxiety attack last night."

"Wow, you guys run your mouth too much," she snapped without thinking.

Jules let out a dark chuckle that made her stomach flip. "What part of 'our girl' don't you realize, YN? Of course, we're gonna talk about things regarding your well-being. Now, answer the question: are you good now?" His hands rubbed up and down her arms. YN nodded. "Open that pretty mouth of yours and use your words," Jules said, voice dropping into an authoritative tone that made her swoon.

Okay Daddy Jules, her intrusive thoughts purred. Oui, oui...

"Yes."

His grin was wicked. "I missed you. Did you miss me or did you have too much fun with Auré?"

"Yes, only a little bit though."

"Only a little bit?" His eyebrows rose. "Well, I guess I have to change your mind then." His lips captured hers again, one hand cradling her face. "You. Should. Spend. The. Night. With. Me." Each word punctuated with a kiss.

"I like that but..." she managed as his lips found her collarbone.

"But?" Those brown eyes looked up at her.

"I'm catching a flight... to London."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Want to visit your other man?"

"Nah, nah. Lewis is a friend. Yes he's fine as fuck but I don't do older guys. Not my type."

Jules chuckled. "Yeah, that's cool. Are you leaving me and Auré?"

"No, never, at least not right now. Four weeks from now, yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "But it'll be two days max. Hell, I don't think I'll even be there for the race. Just wanted to drop in and catch up and see his dog. Have you seen pictures of Roscoe? He's a cutie."

"I follow Lewis on Instagram. He's the GOAT."

Of course he does, she thought.

"But I'm happy you're coming back. It's good to explore different cities. Broaden your horizons." He waggled his eyebrows before kissing her again. "You told Auré?"

"No, not yet, but instead of one-on-one dinner... maybe something for the... uh... three of us?" His look said we're doing this? "No, not like that...." His eyes widened. "Maybe. We'll see. Just figured it'd be great to talk and chill before I'm off to London."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go before Coach has a conniption wondering where I am."

They walked back toward the locker room. Players and staff bustled around them, some nodding at Jules, others pretending not to notice how close he stayed to her. Outside the locker room doors, he turned to face her. The intensity in his eyes was different now - part pre-match focus, part something else entirely.

"See you after the match?"

"Of course."

He leaned down for one more kiss, this one slower, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips. Then he pulled back, that game-face sliding back into place as he disappeared into the locker room.

YN headed toward her seat, trying to focus on the match ahead and not on how dinner with both of them would go.

Focus on football, she told herself. But even she knew that was a lost cause.

______________________________________________

The match ended in a 0-0 draw against Portugal, and YN's two baguettes were visibly frustrated, discussing the game in rapid-fire French across the restaurant table.

"L'attaque était horrible!" (The attack was horrible!) Jules complained, stabbing at his salmon.

"On aurait dû gagner," (We should have won) Aurélien added, gesturing with his fork. "Ces putains d'arbitres..." (These fucking referees...)

They caught themselves, noticing YN quietly eating her steak.

"Sorry, belle," Aurélien switched to English. "How's your food?"

"Really good," she cut another piece of her medium-rare steak. "Though y'all are scary when you're mad."

"Not mad," Jules corrected. "Frustrated. Big difference."

"Speaking of differences," she started, "I'm heading to London tomorrow."

Aurélien took a sip of Coca-Cola. "To visit your man Lewis?"

Jules giggled - he'd made the same assumption earlier.

"He's just a friend," YN snapped. "And if he wasn't, I thought you didn't care anyway."

Aurélien glanced at Jules. "Son attitude? Elle est sérieuse?" (Her attitude? Is she serious?)

"Elle fait sa bratty," (She's being bratty) Jules replied as he spread his legs wider.

Their gazes cut to YN.

"My bad, belle," Aurélien said, making her smile. "You coming back?"

"To y'all - yes."

Aurélien's signature smirk appeared. "I like the sound of that."

They continued eating, YN appreciating the space across the table, though their long legs sandwiched hers underneath. When dessert came around, they split a chef sampler that included the best cheesecake YN ever had in her life - sorry mama!

As usual, the boys paid the bill and the walk back to her hotel was comfortable, both men flanking her sides as they strolled through Hamburg's evening streets. In the elevator, Jules pressed her floor while Aurélien's hand found its usual spot on her lower back.

They walked her to her door and YN reached up on her tip-toes to kiss Aurélien goodbye, but he gently pushed her back down.

"Aren't you gonna invite us in?" The hell?

"Yeah, we have to discuss something," Jules added.

YN glanced between them. "About? I have to pack, boys."

"We know and we'll even help." Aurélien said.

"Just five minutes," Jules promised.

"Max," added Aurélien.

YN muttered "okay" and let them in, Jules closing the door behind them.

"Your attitude's been trash lately," Aurélien started.

"What the hell?"

"If we're gonna be doing this, we shouldn't get snappy with each other. That only makes things worse. We know that seeing all the shit on the blogs is tough but there's a better way to voice your frustration," Jules said.

"Especially since it deals with all three of us," Aurélien added.

Uhn-uhn, not them giving you an intervention! her intrusive thoughts said.

Yeah, who do they think they are - you don't pay them to read you to filth like this, her rational thoughts agreed.

"Now hold on a second–"

"Let us finish, chérie," Jules held up a hand. "This is why you had that panic attack? The bullshit on the blogs?" Both sets of eyes bore into her until she nodded. "'Member what we said about using your words?"

I know this nigga is not...

"Yes - I had a panic attack because of that. Because of what may happen if they found out that I'm also hanging out with Aurélien."

The boys exchanged words in French. She really needed to get on her Zoom on Duolingo...

"Maybe you should hang out with one of us then? If you're scared of–" Jules started.

"No!" she surprised even herself. "We're not - I don't want to do that. I like Aurélien."

"Oh, belle," he said cockily, then sobered. "If it worries you though, it might be best. I don't want you to have another panic attack."

"We just have to be careful, okay?" she suggested. "Just be mindful of our surroundings. I don't want to stop hanging out with you, Aurélien. Really."

More French consultation, then Jules: "Okay, if you think that's best. We just be careful then."

"So maybe no more matches?" Aurélien said. Before YN could protest, he continued, "because they will keep trying to figure out who you're with, so no more matches and we hang out in each other's rooms. Sounds good?"

"Good," Jules said.

"Fine," YN replied defiantly, folding her arms.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "Your fucking attitude."

"I swear," Jules shook his head. "We may have to do something about it."

"We might," Aurélien agreed, their gazes turning hungry. YN gulped.

"Take a seat on the bed, chérie," Jules commanded. YN remained frozen. "What did I say?" The bass in his voice made her sit immediately on the edge.

"Take off your shoes then scoot up to the headboard," Aurélien said. Again she froze until his arched eyebrow basically said I know you heard me loud and clear.

She did as told, removing her mules and scooting back against the headboard. Jules and Aurélien toed off their sneakers, the soft thuds against the floor echoing in the room. She couldn't quite believe what was happening. The way they moved — their confidence, the unspoken understanding between them — made her breath catch in her throat.

Jules was the first to climb onto the bed, taking his place on her left. Aurélien followed, settling on her right. They were close enough that their warmth seeped into her skin, their combined presence intoxicating.

"You can back out at any time," Jules murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hand rested lightly on her knee. "We won’t push you to do anything you don’t want."

"Whatever you want," Aurélien added.

YN swallowed, trying to calm the swirl of emotions in her chest. She didn’t feel pressured — just overwhelmed in the best way possible. "Just kissing…for right now," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Because anything besides that, I think I might combust...

Both men nodded, their acceptance of her boundaries making her exhale in relief.

Jules leaned in first, tilting her chin gently with his fingers. His lips brushed against hers, warm and soft, the kiss starting slow. YN sighed into him, her hands hesitantly resting on his chest. Jules then deepened the kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek, coaxing small, breathy moans from her lips.

Aurélien’s hand slid up her thigh, staying over her clothes but sending sparks through her body. She broke the kiss with Jules, turning toward Aurélien, who was already leaning in. His kiss was firmer, more demanding, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck as he took control. YN moaned into his mouth, her body tingling as his thumb traced slow circles against her nape.

The feel of both their hands on her, their energy so different yet equally electrifying, had her melting. Jules pressed a kiss to the side of her neck while Aurélien nibbled gently on her lower lip, pulling away just enough to murmur against her mouth, "You know I should spank you for talking to me like that at the restaurant, don’t you?"

YN’s eyes widened. His tone was teasing, but the heat in his gaze said he meant every word.

Aurélien smirked as he kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. "But I’ll save that for another time," he added, his words a rumble against her lips.

That sounds like a promise, sir! her intrusive thoughts chimed in, but she pushed it aside.

Even though she had a really nice — and it was really nice — time with Enzo and Carina, doing two guys at once was too much for her at the moment, yet that didn't go without saying that she hadn't dreamt about it, dreamt about them.

For now, this was enough. This was perfect.

Jules' hands slipped up to cup her breasts over her blouse, his touch confident but not demanding. Aurélien followed suit, his large hand settling on her waist, his thumb brushing the edge of her rib cage.

YN let herself get lost in the sensations — their mouths on hers, their hands exploring. Her moans filled the space between kisses, soft gasps escaping as they found ways to make her tremble under their attention.

Aurélien broke the kiss, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You’re incredible, belle. Perfect."

Jules hummed his agreement, pressing a lingering kiss to her jawline. "Just say the word, and we’ll stop," he reminded her.

YN shook her head, her voice breathy as she replied, "Don’t stop. Not yet."

And with that, she gave herself over to the moment, letting their kisses and touches drown out every doubt. For now, she didn’t have to think about anything else — just the feeling of being cherished by both of them, right here and now.

The heat in the room thickened as their hands and lips explored, each movement a blend of curiosity and simmering passion. YN found herself caught between their bodies, Jules’ lips brushing against her neck while Aurélien captured her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless. Her hands, trembling with a mix of nervousness and desire, wandered over Jules’ toned chest. Her fingertips skimmed over his defined muscles before dipping lower, where she felt his erection straining against her touch.

Jules let out a low groan, his lips momentarily pausing on her neck. His eyes fluttered shut as her hand pressed more firmly. "Should I stop?" she asked, her hand stilling.

Jules shook his head, his voice rough with desire. "You’re good," he assured her. His words sent a thrill through her, and she bit her lower lip, the action catching Aurélien’s attention.

Aurélien pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching her face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm.

"No sex tonight," YN declared, her voice steady despite the warmth pooling in her stomach.

Both men nodded immediately, their agreement firm. "No sex," Aurélien echoed, his lips brushing her cheek.

"But…" she started, her voice trailing off. Jules raised a curious brow, silently encouraging her to continue. "I wouldn’t mind more kissing… and touching. If you’re okay with that."

Aurélien smirked, his hand cupping her face. "You should already know that I’m down," he teased, causing her and Jules to chuckle softly.

Jules grinned, his hand brushing lightly over her waist. "That’s fine. This is all about you, chérie."

"Exactly," Aurélien agreed, his warm gaze settling on her.

YN’s lips curved into a half-nervous, half-excited smile as she let their words sink in. "Good," she said, feeling a surge of boldness. Her eyes flicked between them before she clapped her hands playfully. "So… take off your pants. And those drawers."

Aurélien let out a laugh, his brow arching in mock indignation. "Damn, not you treating us like your little sluts," he joked, but he slid off the bed nonetheless. Jules followed, both of them making quick work of their clothing.

Aurélien unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. His shirt followed next, revealing his broad shoulders and toned chest, and then his boxers, leaving him gloriously bare. Jules mirrored his actions, peeling away his shirt, then his jeans and briefs in one fluid motion.

Both men stood before her, naked and unapologetically confident, their skin glistening under the dim lighting. The way their muscles flexed as they moved, the unapologetic confidence in their stances.

Bless you, Lord…

Bless Him indeed, praised her intrusive thoughts.

YN couldn’t stop her appreciative gaze from lingering. She exhaled deeply, her hands trembling slightly as she began to undress herself. First, her pants slid off, pooling around her ankles. Then came her halterneck top, revealing her bare shoulders and curves. Her panties were next, followed by the pasties she had carefully applied earlier. By the time she was finished, both men were back on the bed, flanking her sides as before.

"Okay, don’t make this awkward," she muttered, her cheeks warming at the vulnerable position she was in.

Aurélien chuckled, leaning in close to brush his lips against hers. "You’re the one making it awkward," he teased before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss.

"Very awkward," Jules added with a grin, his lips finding her neck again, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands moved on instinct, exploring them both — Aurélien’s firm chest and the ripple of Jules’ abs. Their touches grew bolder as well, Jules’ hands cupping her breast firmly while Aurélien’s lips wandered to her collarbone. YN’s head fell back against the headboard, a soft moan escaping her lips as their attention left her dizzy.

Jules gripped her jaw gently, tilting her face toward him so he could claim her lips. His kiss was deep, deliberate, his lips moving against hers with intoxicating intensity. Meanwhile, Aurélien scooted lower on the bed, his mouth latching onto her breast. The warmth of his tongue flicking over her nipple sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her, and she arched into his touch, her body responding instinctively to the sensations.

Jules’ free hand wandered downward, his fingers skimming the curve of her thigh before massaging the soft flesh with firm, slow circles. His touch was unhurried, as though he was savoring every second. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her thighs apart wider, creating more space for him to explore. His fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, his knuckles brushing against her clit in the faintest tease that made her gasp against his mouth.

"Can I touch you here?" Jules asked, his lips brushing against hers as his hand hovered at her center, waiting for her permission.

"Yes…" YN breathed, her voice trembling with need as her hips arched slightly, granting him better access. At the same moment, Aurélien’s mouth moved to her other breast, his teeth grazing her nipple before his tongue soothed the sting. The combined sensations left her head spinning, her body aflame with desire.

Jules’ fingers pressed against her folds, sliding through her wetness. He hissed softly, his reaction sending a thrill through her. "You’re so wet," he murmured, his lips barely moving from hers.

"How wet is she?" Aurélien asked, pulling back from her breasts, his voice rich with curiosity and amusement.

Jules didn’t hesitate, his hand moving briefly from her body. "Soaked," he replied, holding up his fingers, which glistened with her arousal. Without thinking, he brought them to her lips. YN didn’t need instruction — she opened her mouth, her tongue flicking over his fingers before she sucked them clean, her gaze locked with his.

"Putain," Jules muttered, his brown eyes darkened with lust as he stared at her. There was a raw hunger in his gaze, an intensity that made her shiver under his scrutiny. She moaned softly when his fingers slipped from her mouth, her body still tingling from the taste of herself on his skin.

"You sure this isn’t weird?" she managed to say, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Foot, meet mouth, yet again.

Aurélien chuckled lowly, his large hands sliding up to cup her waist. "Yes. Now be quiet and enjoy it," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The logical part of her brain — the one still vaguely aware of social norms — tried to remind her of the surreal nature of the situation, how the two of them had undoubtedly seen each other naked countless times before, not to mention this clearly wasn’t their rodeo. But that thought quickly dissolved when Jules silenced her with another kiss, this one gentler, almost reassuring, yet no less passionate.

Aurélien’s fingers joined the mix, his touch grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before moving to where Jules had left off. Jules’ hand slid downward again, his touch more assertive now, parting her folds with practiced ease. His fingers stroked her clit in small, deliberate circles while Aurélien’s fingers plunged into her slowly, stretching her.

The two worked in sync, their movements seamless and perfectly timed, as though they’d rehearsed this. Jules’ fingers teased her clit with increasing pressure while Aurélien’s plunged deeper, curling slightly to hit just the right spot that made her cry out, her hips rolling to meet their touch as the pleasure built to a near-overwhelming peak.

Aurélien’s lips found her neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice low and reverent. His fingers quickened their pace, his thumb brushing against her clit in time with Jules’ movements.

Jules watched her intently, his free hand tracing lazy patterns over her thigh while his other continued its rhythm. "This is all for you, chérie," he whispered, his voice laced with heat. "Just cum."

YN’s breaths came out in ragged pants, her body trembling as the sensations threatened to consume her. She was lost to the pleasure, her mind a haze of touch and desire and soft, murmured words. "I can’t…" she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

"You can," Aurélien assured her, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers hit that spot again. "And you will."

With a strangled cry, YN finally gave in, her body shuddering violently as waves of pleasure washed over her. Jules and Aurélien didn’t let up, their hands guiding her through the high until her body relaxed, boneless and sated between them. Both of them leaned down to kiss her softly — Aurélien on her cheek, Jules on her lips.

YN slowly came down from her orgasmic high, her body resettling after the aftershocks had dissipated. Letting out a sigh, she glanced down and spotted their erections – both of them still hard beyond measure, desperate for release.

"Should I suck–"

"No," Aurélien said whilst Jules simultaneously shook his head.

"I’m fine," added Jules. "We’re good."

Her eyes traveled back onto their penises. Don’t look fine to me… "You sure?"

"Positive," they said in unison.

"There’s always next time," said Aurélien as he slipped off the bed, grabbing his phone before making his way to the bathroom. "I’ll be back."

And with that, he closed the door behind him and YN was briefly consumed with her thoughts.

Kinda mean to have him rub one out when you have perfectly capable mouth and hands. Shameful, her intrusive thoughts chided.

No - you stood your ground on your boundaries. This is a win-win situation, countered her rational thoughts.

"If you keep staring at it, you’ll just make it harder," Jules’ voice pulled her out of her reverie and her gaze connected with his. As usual, Jules was cool and collected – relaxing comfortably in bed with his arms tucked behind his head.

"What?"

"My dick," he explained. "Keep staring at it like that and it’ll just get harder. Come ‘ere and cuddle."

Ooh, yes!

YN smiled brightly at his words and scooted beside him, snuggling deep into his side and hummed when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you doing okay?" he wondered after a few silent moments of her lying on his chest. "I know that this is a lot for you, but I want to make sure you’re good with…everything….Auré and I at the same time."

"I’m good, Jules."

"Seriously?"

YN lifted her head up from his chest to stare at him. "Yeah…just getting used to it. The possibility of–"

"Fucking us both?"

Even though that was exactly what she thinking, it still made her cheeks warm upon hearing it aloud. This time that they’ve spent together was nice and it did make her curious about how she could handle being so…full. Unlike her disastrous – and perhaps questionable – porn choices, no one has had the pleasure of being inside her other hole. Not like there hasn’t been any instances on trying; it just never panned out correctly. Perhaps she wasn’t doing it the right way (as if one needed extra instruction on anal sex) or maybe it wasn’t with the right partner (which seemed like the case). Either way, she never given it much thought besides now, that is.

"How did you guys do it before? With that girl from Bordeaux?"she wondered and Jules’ eyebrows furrowed. "I just want to know the positions–"

"We Eiffel Tower’d her." Direct. To the point. No hesitation.

YN tried to suppress a giggle at the double entendre, but failed miserably and a small chortle managed to escape. "Two French guys Eiffel Towering a girl?"

Jules dawned onto the gist of what she was saying and he even let out a chuckle himself. "I know, the joke writes itself." Then, he cleared his throat and exhaled a breath. "I mean….shit…we were so young. No anal sex though, just her mouth and pussy. We can just do that if it makes you more comfortable."

Interesting. "Have you tried it before?"

"Once," he said, the edges of his mouth curving upwards into a mischievous grin as he reminisced. "Not a personal fave, but lots of lube can help with that."

Then, they heard the toilet flush followed by the sounds of running water. Seconds later, Aurélien made his way out of the bathroom and sauntered over to the bed, sliding back onto his side as if he never left.

"You good, bébé?" Her overly caring — lover? situationship? — asked as one of his hands trailed down her spine.

"Yes," YN said, doing her darnedest to not moan as he caressed her soft skin, yet she did allow a shiver to go down her body upon feeling his slightly damp fingers.

"YN's curious about anal sex," said Jules, and she shot him a warning look, which caused him to laugh.

"You’re a freaky girl," was all Aurélien said as his hand continued its route downwards, moving from her back to the top of her ass. "I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet."

"How do you know if I’m ready for all of that?" she retorted, accusingly, turning over to the other side to give him her full attention.

Instead of answering verbally, Aurélien’s hand skimmed lightly over her ass cheeks and then gently coaxed them apart until he came in contact with her virgin anus. She flinched at the feeling, and Aurélien scoffed.

"You’re not ready for all of that," he repeated then moved his hand to her lower back. YN rolled her eyes despite herself and a grin appeared on his annoyingly handsome face.

"Anyways," she started, turning around once more to Jules. "what time is it? I should get some things packed."

Jules removed one hand from behind his head to grab his phone from the other bedside table, tapping the screen to check the time. "Almost midnight."

Shit. She had six hours before she had to be up and ready to head to the airport.

With a groan, YN carefully slipped out of bed, scooting all the way down to the bottom edge and then walking over to the closet to take out her carry-on. Meanwhile, the boys didn’t move an inch – just lounged there like the sexy predators they embodied, naked as the day they were born.

"I’m surprised that you guys didn’t put on clothes or boxers…something," she muttered as she began to rifle through the closet for clothes to wear in England.

"We saw each other naked too many times to count," Aurélien said as he picked up his phone to scroll mindlessly through it. "Why? Should we put on some clothes?"

"I think she might be kicking us out," proclaimed Jules as he watched her pack then unpack her clothing selection from his side of the bed. "Pack a jacket, chérie. It’s supposed to be fourteen degrees Celsius in London tomorrow."

Celsius? What? "Huh?" That definitely made her halt her movements.

"Ah, you gotta say it in American, JK," explained Aurélien with an amused chuckle.

Jules muttered a curse under his breath. "Fifty-seven degrees your temperature."

Then why don’t they just say that? "Oh, thanks." YN scanned her closet for that jean jacket her mama packed, found it, and then place it inside the carry-on – along with another coord set, a maxi dress, two linen shirts, a pair of jeans, her mules, and some underwear. Doing the most for two days, of course. Always. But she needed options. "And for the record, I’m not kicking y’all out. Just…noticing."

"Noticing bad or noticing good?" This came from Aurélien, who finally shifted his gaze away from whatever he was watching on his phone to her.

YN shrugged nonchalantly. "Just noticing." Both of them let out a barely audible utterance. Hmm… "Sleepover?"

"Always."

"Of course."

Satisfied with both her clothing choices and their answers, YN decided to leave packing her skincare and makeup until tomorrow morning then grabbed her bonnet from the dresser and place it over her head before padding inside the bathroom to do her nightly routine.

She cleaned her face quickly, removing her makeup and then brushing her teeth. YN pulled on an oversized t-shirt and panties after she left the bathroom, climbing back into bed and in her designated spot in the middle.

They popped on her like grease out of a pan – arms wrapping around her (they definitely rehearsed that move), lips on either side of her neck, phones forgotten. The urban nightlife filtered through the windows, its sounds and lights scattered across the room to create the perfect ambiance as YN basked in being sandwiched between the two of them, enjoying the way both of their bodies molded next to hers, their scent wafting through her nostrils.

I could get used to this.

"Night, boys."

"Night, chérie." A little grumble from Jules, cuddling close.

"Bonne nuit, bébé." A low, yet deep murmur from Aurélien.

Her boys. YN flashed a wide grin in the dark, feeling cozy and relaxed. With the warmth surrounding her, she let sleep take over, happily drifting into dreamland.

______________________________________________

The alarm blaring jolted YN awake. She found herself sandwiched between Jules and Aurélien, both still deep in sleep.

"Turn it off," Aurélien groaned.

"Working on it," she sassed back, looking around the room. "If I could find it…"

Her phone had somehow ended up in her purse near the armchair. Among her notifications:

LewLew Bean: Text when you land tomorrow x. Roscoe's excited to see you!

BallerAlert: YN_YLN's ex-boyfriend spotted with Victoria's Secret model at LA hotspot

She chuckled at how they didn't even use Damari's name anymore.

"Where you going?" Aurélien's hand caught her wrist as she headed to the bathroom.

"Getting ready for my flight or did you forget?"

He kissed his teeth, muttering something before rolling over. Jules continued snoring, pillow still covering his head.

They're annoying, she thought, watching them sleep, but damn if they aren't cute. After last night, everything felt… different. Maybe juggling two French best friends wasn't as complicated as she'd thought.

After showering and packing her toiletries, she pulled on her airport fit - half-zip pullover, cropped tee, wide-leg sweats. She was lacing up her Nikes when they finally stirred.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauties."

"Morning."

"Mmmhmm."

"We can order breakfast before I go."

"Boo," Aurélien pouted.

Jules giggled, licking his lips. "Sounds like a plan."

While Aurélien used one of the hotel toothbrushes, Jules beckoned YN over with a crooked finger. Like a good girl, she sashayed to his side of the bed, letting him guide her down until they were eye-level.

His lips met hers softly - the kind of kiss that said don't forget us. All gentle pressure and sweet promise.

"Be safe over there," he murmured, fingers trailing from her shoulders to her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. "I don't know if I like your hair better up or down." He studied her low-maintenance bun.

"I prefer it down," Aurélien said as he returned to his side of the bed.

"Yeah, might be my favorite too," Jules agreed before heading to brush his teeth.

They shared breakfast - eggs, pastries, fruit - stealing bites from each other's plates like they'd done this a hundred times.

After getting dressed, they followed her as she got on the elevator, their hands filled with her bags. Both men hugged her goodbye in the lobby - Jules kissed her forehead while Aurélien squeezed her waist.

"See you Sunday," she promised.

"See you, cherie." Jules' response was sweet as usual, his eyes filled with longing.

"Don't have too much fun with Lewis," Aurélien said with a wink - ever the jokester but YN could tell that he was going to miss her too.

She gathered her carry-on and tote, handing them off to the driver before slipping inside the back seat, watching them wave as her Uber then pulled away.

Different, she thought again. But good different.

______________________________________________

"You really didn't have to pick me up," YN said as Lewis loaded her carry-on into his Mercedes SUV.

"Please, what kind of host would I be?"

A fine as hell one, her intrusive thoughts noted, appreciating how his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. But for once, the attraction stayed purely aesthetic - like admiring art in a museum. No urge to touch, just respect for the craftsmanship.

A happy bark interrupted her thoughts. Roscoe's wrinkled face appeared between the front seats, tongue lolling out.

"Oh my god, he's even cuter in person!" She reached back to scratch behind his ears. The bulldog immediately flopped into her touch, making Lewis laugh.

"He's usually shy with new people." Lewis glanced over as he pulled onto the motorway. "You must be special."

"Nah, animals just know good people. Right, Roscoe?"

Another enthusiastic bark.

"So," Lewis's gap-toothed smile flashed, "tell me about these French boys of yours."

YN groaned, but found herself smiling. There was something comfortable about Lewis - like talking to a friend who'd seen it all and judged none of it.

"Well," she settled in for the drive, Roscoe's head now resting on her arm. "Last night was... interesting."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say there was some three-way kissing involved..."

"Holy shit!" Lewis nearly swerved. "You really out here living your best life!"

"The French are wild though."

"And you're just now figuring this out?"

Frank Ocean's "Pink + White" played softly as they drove through London's posh neighborhoods. Finally, they pulled up to a stunning Georgian house, complete with climbing vines and white gravel drive.

"This is so British," YN marveled, following Roscoe up the path.

The door opened to reveal a petite white woman with cropped hair. "This must be YN!"

"This is my mum, Carmen," Lewis said casually, slipping inside with her bags in tow.

First I'm staying here, now I'm meeting his mother? Does she think we're—

GURRRRLLLL! her intrusive thoughts screeched.

"Hi Miss Carmen," YN opened her arms for a hug, breathing in cookies and peonies - the most British smell ever.

"Come in! How was your flight?" Carmen ushered her inside. The house was gorgeous - checkerboard foyer tiles, winding staircase, wainscoting, and family photos everywhere. The kitchen was all navy cabinets, marble counters, and brass fixtures. "I've made some lunch. Would you like fish and chips?"

"I love fish and chips!" YN burst out enthusiastically, making Carmen's eyebrows shoot up. "Sorry, I tend to get—"

"Don't apologize. I love the enthusiasm. It's cod, okay?"

"Sounds good." Carmen plated the food and set it before YN. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, you're so polite. And pretty."

Lewis finally appeared, leaning against the counter. "I'll show you your bedroom in a second. How is it?"

"She didn't try it yet, love." Carmen urged YN to take a bite. The fish was perfectly seasoned. Carmen beamed at her reaction. "It's my famous seasoning blend. Bit different than what you'd expect from a pub, but it's good right?"

"So good," YN agreed, trying the fries. Then YN's foot-in-mouth disease struck: "So… who do you think I am to Lewis?"

"I know you two are good friends," Carmen smiled. "Besides, this one is making me wait to become a grandmother unfortunately."

"You have Roscoe, Mum," Lewis said with a small smile playing on his lips.

"A human grandchild would be nice."

"You have those too. Four of them to be exact," Lewis pointed out.

"I want more!"

"And you will. When I retire."

"In three years!" Carmen harrumphed.

YN shrugged, taking another fry. "I mean, you are forty with no kids. Seems sus."

Lewis's jaw dropped while Carmen cheered. "Thank you!"

"He needs a nice woman to date. None of those model types. We've been there, done that too many times over," his mother continued.

"Maybe a businesswoman?" YN suggested.

"Ooh yes! Do you know any single women, preferably ages thirty-two to thirty-seven?"

"Okay, mum, that's enough. YN's not here to play matchmaker."

"I do, actually," YN said, making them both exclaim: "Really?!"

"I mean, she's divorced and has two kids - six-year-old twins but they're so cute and well-behaved."

"I don't know about becoming a stepdad," Lewis said apprehensively. "I don't want to overstep."

"Lewis, love, you're so great with kids!" Carmen insisted.

I think she's just willing to take on anyone at this moment.

"What she look like?" Lewis asked.

"Oh? You're taking it seriously?"

He shrugged. "Just curious, is all."

"Mmhmm," YN took out her phone, opened Instagram, and typed in 'Sabine Wurley', her label's A&R exec - a gorgeous Trini-Canadian with toffee skin, doe eyes, and all the Caribbean curves to match.

"Holy shit she's gorgeous," Carmen gasped.

"She's nice looking," Lewis said flatly. YN stared at him like he had three heads. "Give me her number."

"If I'm going to throw the alley-oop, don't fuck up her heart. I love Sab a lot."

"I won't."

"Promise me," YN pressed. "I'm deadass."

"Fine, fine, I promise. Dang."

YN forwarded the contact with a smirk. Sabine and Lewis? She could work with that.

🌹🇫🇷 Group Chat:

Aurélien 🌹 Miss you already 😘 These hotel beds are too big without you

Jules 🇫🇷 Speak for yourself. I'm spread out like a starfish

YN Y'all are so dramatic 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 Says the one who needed us both to sleep last night

Jules 🇫🇷 Exactly. Training bout to start. Talk soon.

YN Have fun! Be careful...

Jules 🇫🇷 You worried about us? Cute.

Aurélien 🌹 Very cute. Tell Lewis we said hi but not too enthusiastically 😏

YN smiled at her phone, scrolling through the group chat with her French baguettes. Twenty-four hours felt longer than it should.

Girl, you're down BAD, her intrusive thoughts teased as she pocketed her phone, letting Roscoe lead her around Silverstone's paddock. The bulldog stopped to sniff literally everything before finally choosing the perfect patch of grass.

"Is that YN?"

"Who's she?"

"The singer!"

"Why does she have Roscoe?"

The paddock photographers weren't confused at all - their cameras clicked away while she tried to wrangle an overexcited bulldog who'd spotted another driver's water bottle.

"Roscoe, no — that's not yours!" She tugged gently at his leash.

Too busy texting Jules back ("Show them what that ass do 😏"), she crashed right into someone in an orange racing suit - McLaren? "Oh shit, sorry!"

"No worries!" Blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I'm Lando."

She introduced herself politely, taking in his cute boyish features. Her horn-o-meter, usually quick to jump for any attractive man with an accent, stayed firmly at 0. Maybe she was catching feelings for her French boys if this British cutie wasn't doing it for her.

Or maybe, her intrusive thoughts suggested, you just have a type now: tall, dark, and speaks French.

Back at the Mercedes garage, Lewis scooped her into a hug. "Thanks for dog duty."

Rosa, his comms personnel, led Roscoe to his bed in the corner while Lewis started suiting up for qualifying.

"Good energy today," he said, zipping up his race suit. "I can feel it."

"You sound just like my mama with all this energy talk."

"Your mama knows what's up then."

YN rolled her eyes, checking her phone again.

"Missing the French boys already?"

"Mind your business!"

"Not very hot girl summer of you," he teased, pulling on his gloves. "Thought you weren't catching feelings?"

"I'm not!" But even she heard the uncertainty in her voice. A little 'missing you' doesn't mean anything, right?

Whatever you say, both her intrusive and rational thoughts weren't too convinced.

"Mhmm. Sure." He grinned. "Keep telling yourself that while you check your phone every two minutes."

"Shouldn't you be focusing on qualifying?"

"I am. And you're focusing on your messages from Jules and Aurélien."

She watched him qualify - still clueless about what was happening but proud of his P4 position based on everyone's reactions. But even as the garage celebrated, her mind wandered to Hamburg, wondering if her French boys were doing well at practice.

After qualifying, YN and Lewis walked arm in arm through the paddock, Roscoe trotting beside them. She pretended not to notice the cameras clicking or hear the whispers.

"They'd really lose it if they knew about your French situation," Lewis murmured.

"Don't you dare—"

"I would never. But it's funny watching them try to figure out who you're with."

Back at his place, they ordered Indian takeout and sprawled on his massive couch, Roscoe snoring between them.

"You're leaving early tomorrow?"

"Miss my boys," she admitted, shoving another piece of naan in her mouth.

"Oh, really?" he teased, but his smile was kind. "Though I once drove six hours just to see this model for like... two hours max."

"Lewis Hamilton, you dog!"

"I heard women do crazy things when they're dickmatized."

"I am NOT dickmatized!" She threw a pillow at him. "I just... miss them."

"Mhmm." His knowing look said everything. "It's cool though. Young, free, exploring. Just be careful with those feelings."

"I know." She got up to hug him, ready to head to her room to tuck in for the night. "Good luck tomorrow. Show these young boys how it's done."

"Always do." But she could tell he was a bit sad she'd miss the race. "Text me when you land?"

"Of course. And thanks for... everything."

"Anytime, Lil' Bit."

She pretended not to notice how soft his smile was. Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, was a whole teddy bear underneath all that swagger.

_______________________________________________

The next morning, scrolling through her phone in the airport lounge, she saw:

PopCultureDaily: YN's European Tour continues! From Monaco clubs to Silverstone with Lewis Hamilton - sis is LIVING 🔥 [Photos: YN dancing in Monaco, walking with Lewis at Silverstone]

view all comments.... celebtea: Hot Girl Summer: Achievement Unlocked ↳ ynglobal: First French footballers now F1? We stan a versatile queen ↳ tsrfans: Better than that NFL bench warmer mayegurl: Still waiting for tea about those TWO French players 👀 ↳ maggiegerty: Wait what? TWO?? sportsgossip: Lewis Hamilton and YN dating? ↳ f1insider: They're just friends y'all ↳ fanpage: The way he looks at her though!

"Now boarding flight 2847 to Hamburg…"

She made he way to board her plane and settled into her aisle seat, already thinking about seeing Jules and Aurélien, when a deep voice interrupted:

"Excuse me, that's my window seat."

YN looked up - and up - into warm brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. The stranger was gorgeous in that intellectual way - tall and lean but solid, perfect fade, skin like dark honey, full lips curled in a gentle smile. His navy Tom Ford suit and Cartier watch screamed tenured professor with family money.

Her horn-o-meter jumped to 9.

Another one for the roster? her intrusive thoughts suggested.

Finally, not an athlete, her rational side approved.

"Javaughn Taylor," he introduced himself as he settled in, his Northeast accent surprising her. "Heading to Hamburg for work."

"YN," she replied. "What kind of work?"

"A conference. Economics at Hamburg University. I teach at Columbia."

They talked the whole flight - about music (he played jazz piano), books (they both loved Octavia Butler), travel (he'd just been to Cape Town). His laugh was rich, his intelligence obvious but not showy. He really reminded her of that hot professor everyone had a crush on in college but never dared to approach.

When they landed, she had his number and a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with turbulence.

The universe really testing my French situation, she thought, watching him stride away in those perfectly tailored trousers.

TO BE CONTINUED......

[emjayewrites]

Businessman Tchoua >>>

[emjayewrites]

@muglermami I think everyone is willing to hook up with Lewis but the age gap is giving me the ick but their friendship is soo amazing! Can’t wait to share Chapter 4

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (3/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @judesvirtual, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @pepfectionary, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @enretrogue, @judesprxncess, @yeea-nah @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce

CHAPTER 3: Another One, Thank You!

Hamburg greeted YN with unexpected sunshine and a hotel room with a view of the harbor. She'd barely finished unpacking when her phone buzzed:

Aurélien 🌹 Settled in? I'm taking you somewhere nice tonight

YN Define 'nice' 🤔

Aurélien You'll see. Wear something that shows off what you want me to touch later 😏

YN's mouth went dry. The man did not believe in subtle flirting.

YN And if I want you to touch everything?

Aurélien Then why did you wanna get dinner? We could've just chilled in my room

"Touché," she muttered.

Her phone buzzed again, this time the group chat:

Jules 🇫🇷 You good YN?

Aurélien 🌹 Taking YN to Heimat tonight

Jules 🇫🇷 Good choice. Those views 👌🏾 Treat her well but not too well, I need her tomorrow 😌

YN I'm right here! 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 We know 😈

These men are going to be the death of me. She was about to respond when an Instagram notification caught her eye:

deuxmoi: SPOTTED: Grammy winner YN_YLN with French football star Jules Koundé at froyo spot in Düsseldorf! A source says they looked "very cozy" 👀 [Fan photo attached]

view all comments...

popculture_daily: The way he's looking at her though! 🔥 ynglobaldom: MY QUEEN WINNING chartdata: Her power>>> gossipgirl2024: Wait didn't you say you saw her with TWO French players? Drop the tea sis

Shit. I have to keep this lowkey.

For what? her intrusive thoughts challenged. Men get seen with different women all the time. Did Damari hide his fun?

That makes you no better than him! her rational side countered. Keep it under wraps.

She had to agree — the potential scandal of being seen with both of them...

Though part of her wanted to say fuck it. Why should she hide?

"Because being famous is annoying sometimes," she muttered, unpacking her suitcase and arranging her outfits in the closet. She plugged in her essential oil diffuser — lavender to calm her nerves — and lined up her skincare on the marble bathroom counter.

The challenge: what to wear for dinner with Aurélien? Something that said "I'm sexy but not desperate for dick" even though she was, in fact, kind of desperate for his. After twenty minutes of trying on different options, she settled on a black silk slip dress that hit mid-thigh – classy but with enough potential to make his eyes darken.

A quick shower to freshen up, then she wrapped herself in the hotel's fluffy robe and started her getting-ready playlist. Her favorite songs filled the room as she did her makeup, singing along while blending her eyeshadow:

"I might kill my ex, not the best idea… His new girlfriend's next, how'd I get here?"

She switched to Beyoncé as she curled her hair: "I'm warning who I bring to this dinner…"

How appropriate, she thought, pinning half her curls up to show off her neck.

By 8PM, she was applying a final coat of lipgloss when a knock echoed through the suite. Her heart, and pussy, jumped.

She opened the door to find Aurélien looking edible in a fitted black button-down and slacks. His eyes did that slow drag over her body that made her feel like prey - in the best way.

"Beautiful," he said, his signature smirk appearing. "Ready?"

"Let me grab my bag."

His hand found the small of her back as they walked to the elevator - always touching, always claiming space.

Heimat had good lighting and harbor views, and their corner table was intimate without trying too hard. Aurélien pulled out her chair, then sat close enough that his knee pressed against hers.

"So," he reached for the wine list, "besides being an incredible singer and looking gorgeous, what else should I know about YN?"

"You tell me what you want to know."

"Everything." No hesitation. His directness made her flush.

Over wine and appetizers, she learned he was obsessed with basketball ("Knicks till I die, but Lakers when they're good"), played the piano, and had strong opinions about American culture.

His hand had migrated to her thigh, but his touch wasn't purely sexual – he squeezed gently when she talked about her music, traced patterns when she mentioned her mom, and pulled back when she tensed discussing her past.

"That's why the Browns are gonna have a trash season," he said when Damari came up.

"You follow American football?"

"Enough to know your ex is gonna be riding the bench," Aurélien said simply. "But his loss is my gain."

"Our gain," she corrected.

"Ah yes, can't forget Jules." He grinned.

The conversation flowed easily - from childhood dreams to current goals, favorite books to worst dates. He was surprisingly funny, dropping deadpan jokes that had her snorting into her wine.

"Did you know," he said seriously, "that Jules sleepwalks?"

"No way."

"Once found him trying to make a sandwich in his sleep. Completely naked."

By dessert, she'd learned more about him than she expected - how his eyes crinkled when he really smiled, how he gestured with his hands when excited about a topic, how his thumb would stroke her skin absently while he listened.

"Want to take a walk?" he suggested after paying. "The harbor's pretty at night."

"You just want to get handsy."

"Always." That smirk again. "But I also want to explore with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Explore what exactly?"

His hand found her lower back again. "Whatever you want, ma belle."

The harbor lights danced on the water as they walked, Aurélien's hand never leaving her waist. He stopped at a quieter spot, turning her to face him.

"Been wanting to do this properly," he murmured, cradling her face. His kiss was different from the hungry ones he usually gave - slow, deliberate, commanding in its patience. He took his time exploring her mouth until her knees went weak.

When he pulled back, she couldn't help the foolish grin spreading across her face.

"Look at that smile," he teased, thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Cute."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, still grinning.

"Would it be crazy if I asked you to spend the night?"

Her first instinct was yes, but then memories of Jules from last night flooded back. Did this make her… a whore? Going from one man's dick to potentially another's?

Girl, who cares? her intrusive thoughts chimed in. It's YOUR hot girl summer.

"I should be honest," she started. "Jules and I…"

"I know," he said softly. "Saw you both in the elevator, remember? Look, this is a lot - physically, emotionally. We go at your pace."

She nodded slowly. "Then… yes. I'd like to stay."

They swung by her hotel for essentials - bonnet, skincare, tomorrow's clothes (and maybe some sexy underwear, just in case).

The Westin Elbphilharmonie towered over the other side of the harbor, all glass and waves meant to mirror the water below. Aurélien's suite was minimalist luxury - cream furnishings, huge windows, and a balcony that made the city look like scattered stars.

"Make yourself at home," he said, taking her overnight bag.

Her heart raced. No turning back now.

Aurélien set her overnight bag on the chaise while YN slipped off her sandals, placing her purse on the bedside table.

"Ever seen Pineapple Express?" he asked, scrolling through the hotel's movie selection.

"Obviously. I'm not uncultured."

His laugh echoed off the suite's walls. "Good. Because I quote this movie way too much."

He turned the movie on and then made his way to the kitchenette - his gait full of unwavering swagger - to place a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

They settled into comfortable silence on the bed, sharing buttery popcorn while Seth Rogen descended into drug dealer chaos. Around the time James Franco started saying "Thug Life," YN decided to start her nighttime routine.

Opening her overnight bag, she grabbed her essentials: makeup wipes, CeraVe cleanser, toner, essence, vitamin C serum, moisturizer, and face oil. But as she started removing her makeup in the bathroom, the anxiety hit like a wave.

Whore. Slut. Can't even wait a day between men.

Her hands trembled as she tried to remove her lashes. The DeuxMoi post kept flashing in her mind - what if people found out about both of them? She wasn't really a whore, was she? Just... exploring. Finding herself. Why did that make her bad?

"YN?" Aurélien's soft knock startled her. "You good? Been in there a while."

"Yes," she squeaked, but her reflection showed panic in her eyes. She gripped the counter, trying to count breaths like her therapist taught her.

The door opened. Aurélien took one look at her and his whole demeanor shifted - the cocky swagger replaced by gentle concern.

"Panic attack?" He stepped closer, fingers finding her pulse point. His protector mode was sweet, though she wished she wasn't seeing it like this.

No shit, she thought, but couldn't speak.

Without a word, he reached for a shower cap, carefully removing each bobby pin from her curls. "Sit," he guided her to the toilet seat.

The shower started running, steam slowly filling the room. He disappeared, returning with her bonnet.

First the shower cap, then the satin bonnet, his movements impossibly gentle for such large hands as he placed them on her head, ensuring each tendril of hair was securely covered.

His eyes met hers. "Can I take off your clothes?" She gave him a look. "It's for the shower," he explained. "Warm showers will help."

She nodded, letting him care for her in this unexpected way.

Aurélien's hands reached for the zipper of her dress. His usual intensity was replaced by something softer - each movement careful, protective.

"Arms up," he murmured, and she complied, letting him pull the silk over her head. Instead of his usual hungry gaze, his eyes held only concern.

This man who looks like he could break hearts for sport, her rational thoughts marveled, is treating me like I'm made of glass.

He unhooked her bra with practiced ease, but there was nothing sexual in the way he helped her step out of her underwear. His touch remained clinical, respectful.

"Temperature good?" he asked, guiding her toward the steam.

She nodded, watching as he rolled up his sleeves to test the water himself. This was a different Aurélien from the one who smirked and made suggestive comments, who exuded raw sexuality. This was the big brother who protected his siblings, the friend who looked out for Jules.

"You don't have to stay," she managed.

"I know." He helped her into the shower. "But I want to."

Maybe, her rational thoughts whispered, we've underestimated him. Maybe there's more here than just physical attraction.

The warm water began to calm her racing heart, and with it came a new understanding: Aurélien Tchouaméni was full of surprises.

"Can I join you?" he asked softly.

She bit her bottom lip, nodding. Her eyes couldn't help but follow as he undressed, appreciating how the muscles in his chest flexed, how his dark skin seemed to glow in the bathroom's soft light, and how gorgeous his penis and testicles were when his boxers fell to the floor. But where normally he'd smirk at her obvious appreciation, now he remained focused on her well-being.

He stepped into the shower, reaching for the hotel's body wash. The scent of lavender filled the steam as he worked the soap between his palms, then started with her shoulders. His strong fingers found knots she didn't even know she had, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

Working down her arms, then her hips, his touch remained therapeutic rather than teasing. He squatted to massage her thighs and calves, his hands firm but gentle on her tired muscles.

"Better?" he asked, looking up at her through wet lashes.

The anxiety was melting away under his careful attention, replaced by something warmer, deeper than just attraction.

Oh, she thought. This could be dangerous in a whole different way.

YN woke to Aurélien's soft snores in her ear, his arm heavy around her waist. His t-shirt swallowed her whole, smelling like his cologne. Last night after the shower, she'd barely managed to pull it on before passing out, emotionally drained.

At least I didn't drool, she thought, becoming very aware of his morning wood pressing against her ass. She stretched - trying to reach her phone on the nightstand.

His arm tightened, grinding closer. "Ne bouge pas, ma belle," (Don't move, beautiful) he muttered, voice impossibly deeper and raspier in the morning. His stubble scratched her cheek as he nuzzled closer.

Even sleeping he's cute as fuck, both her thoughts agreed.

She rolled her eyes despite smiling. Being little spoon was nice, but she needed her phone. One more stretch and - success!

7:30 AM. Notifications lit up her screen:

Mama 💕 Baby girl your crystals told me you had anxiety last night. Did you use that lavender oil I packed? Mercury isn't even in retrograde so this is weird. Light some sage when you can 🌟✨ Also use protection! 😘

Big Kyle You good? Haven't heard from you. These European men treating you right or do I need to catch a flight? 🤨 Send me your location just in case. Love you kid

LewLew Bean Hope Hamburg's treating you well. Saw that DeuxMoi post, don't stress about it. People always talk, let them. Roscoe says hi! [photo of his dog attached]

She smiled at their different approaches - her mom's spiritual advice, Big Kyle's protectiveness, and Lewis just being... Lewis.

Last night's panic attack embarrassed her; breaking down in front of Aurélien wasn't exactly hot girl summer behavior. But seeing his gentler side, how naturally he switched from sexy to protective…

His snoring hitched, arm pulling her closer. "Dors, bébé." (Sleep, baby)

Man has a point, she thought, putting it back on the charger.

YN snuggled deeper into Aurélien's embrace, letting his snores lull her into that peaceful space between sleep and wakefulness. It reminded her of how Damari used to—

No.

No more thoughts about that untalented bench warmer. Her summer was for better things now. Like the way Aurélien's arm tightened around her whenever she moved. Or how Jules' kisses made her dizzy. Or whatever other adventures Europe had in store.

Four weeks left. The thought nagged at her. Maybe she should make the most of it - take a little detour before the semi-finals? Visit Lewis early, see what Silverstone was about? Or maybe hit up another city first, then see Lewis?

What about our French boys? her intrusive thoughts demanded. Can't just leave them hanging!

But she wouldn't be leaving, not really. Just… expanding her horizons. She'd be back for the semis, back to see which of them could make her toes curl faster. Besides, wasn't that the whole point of hot girl summer? Freedom to do whatever - and whoever - she wanted?

I'll tell them later, she decided. After I figure out where I want to go.

Aurélien mumbled something in French against her neck, pulling her closer.

But right now, she thought, closing her eyes, right now I'm exactly where I want to be.

______________________________________________

The Hamburg Arena hummed with pre-match energy as YN made her way through the VIP corridors. She spotted Aurélien talking to Cama, catching his wink when she waved.

Then she saw Jules - or rather, felt him before she saw him. He rounded the corner in his pre-match warmup gear, dreads pulled back, all focused energy until his eyes landed on her. That intense game face melted into a smile that made her legs wobble.

"There's my girl," he said, closing the distance between them. His hand found her waist immediately, guiding her toward a private alcove. There was something different about match-day Jules — a coiled energy that made him seem even more dangerous than usual.

"Are you doing okay?" His eyebrows creased with worry. "Auré told me you had an anxiety attack last night."

"Wow, you guys run your mouth too much," she snapped without thinking.

Jules let out a dark chuckle that made her stomach flip. "What part of 'our girl' don't you realize, YN? Of course, we're gonna talk about things regarding your well-being. Now, answer the question: are you good now?" His hands rubbed up and down her arms. YN nodded. "Open that pretty mouth of yours and use your words," Jules said, voice dropping into an authoritative tone that made her swoon.

Okay Daddy Jules, her intrusive thoughts purred. Oui, oui...

"Yes."

His grin was wicked. "I missed you. Did you miss me or did you have too much fun with Auré?"

"Yes, only a little bit though."

"Only a little bit?" His eyebrows rose. "Well, I guess I have to change your mind then." His lips captured hers again, one hand cradling her face. "You. Should. Spend. The. Night. With. Me." Each word punctuated with a kiss.

"I like that but..." she managed as his lips found her collarbone.

"But?" Those brown eyes looked up at her.

"I'm catching a flight... to London."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Want to visit your other man?"

"Nah, nah. Lewis is a friend. Yes he's fine as fuck but I don't do older guys. Not my type."

Jules chuckled. "Yeah, that's cool. Are you leaving me and Auré?"

"No, never, at least not right now. Four weeks from now, yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "But it'll be two days max. Hell, I don't think I'll even be there for the race. Just wanted to drop in and catch up and see his dog. Have you seen pictures of Roscoe? He's a cutie."

"I follow Lewis on Instagram. He's the GOAT."

Of course he does, she thought.

"But I'm happy you're coming back. It's good to explore different cities. Broaden your horizons." He waggled his eyebrows before kissing her again. "You told Auré?"

"No, not yet, but instead of one-on-one dinner... maybe something for the... uh... three of us?" His look said we're doing this? "No, not like that...." His eyes widened. "Maybe. We'll see. Just figured it'd be great to talk and chill before I'm off to London."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go before Coach has a conniption wondering where I am."

They walked back toward the locker room. Players and staff bustled around them, some nodding at Jules, others pretending not to notice how close he stayed to her. Outside the locker room doors, he turned to face her. The intensity in his eyes was different now - part pre-match focus, part something else entirely.

"See you after the match?"

"Of course."

He leaned down for one more kiss, this one slower, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips. Then he pulled back, that game-face sliding back into place as he disappeared into the locker room.

YN headed toward her seat, trying to focus on the match ahead and not on how dinner with both of them would go.

Focus on football, she told herself. But even she knew that was a lost cause.

______________________________________________

The match ended in a 0-0 draw against Portugal, and YN's two baguettes were visibly frustrated, discussing the game in rapid-fire French across the restaurant table.

"L'attaque était horrible!" (The attack was horrible!) Jules complained, stabbing at his salmon.

"On aurait dû gagner," (We should have won) Aurélien added, gesturing with his fork. "Ces putains d'arbitres..." (These fucking referees...)

They caught themselves, noticing YN quietly eating her steak.

"Sorry, belle," Aurélien switched to English. "How's your food?"

"Really good," she cut another piece of her medium-rare steak. "Though y'all are scary when you're mad."

"Not mad," Jules corrected. "Frustrated. Big difference."

"Speaking of differences," she started, "I'm heading to London tomorrow."

Aurélien took a sip of Coca-Cola. "To visit your man Lewis?"

Jules giggled - he'd made the same assumption earlier.

"He's just a friend," YN snapped. "And if he wasn't, I thought you didn't care anyway."

Aurélien glanced at Jules. "Son attitude? Elle est sérieuse?" (Her attitude? Is she serious?)

"Elle fait sa bratty," (She's being bratty) Jules replied as he spread his legs wider.

Their gazes cut to YN.

"My bad, belle," Aurélien said, making her smile. "You coming back?"

"To y'all - yes."

Aurélien's signature smirk appeared. "I like the sound of that."

They continued eating, YN appreciating the space across the table, though their long legs sandwiched hers underneath. When dessert came around, they split a chef sampler that included the best cheesecake YN ever had in her life - sorry mama!

As usual, the boys paid the bill and the walk back to her hotel was comfortable, both men flanking her sides as they strolled through Hamburg's evening streets. In the elevator, Jules pressed her floor while Aurélien's hand found its usual spot on her lower back.

They walked her to her door and YN reached up on her tip-toes to kiss Aurélien goodbye, but he gently pushed her back down.

"Aren't you gonna invite us in?" The hell?

"Yeah, we have to discuss something," Jules added.

YN glanced between them. "About? I have to pack, boys."

"We know and we'll even help." Aurélien said.

"Just five minutes," Jules promised.

"Max," added Aurélien.

YN muttered "okay" and let them in, Jules closing the door behind them.

"Your attitude's been trash lately," Aurélien started.

"What the hell?"

"If we're gonna be doing this, we shouldn't get snappy with each other. That only makes things worse. We know that seeing all the shit on the blogs is tough but there's a better way to voice your frustration," Jules said.

"Especially since it deals with all three of us," Aurélien added.

Uhn-uhn, not them giving you an intervention! her intrusive thoughts said.

Yeah, who do they think they are - you don't pay them to read you to filth like this, her rational thoughts agreed.

"Now hold on a second–"

"Let us finish, chérie," Jules held up a hand. "This is why you had that panic attack? The bullshit on the blogs?" Both sets of eyes bore into her until she nodded. "'Member what we said about using your words?"

I know this nigga is not...

"Yes - I had a panic attack because of that. Because of what may happen if they found out that I'm also hanging out with Aurélien."

The boys exchanged words in French. She really needed to get on her Zoom on Duolingo...

"Maybe you should hang out with one of us then? If you're scared of–" Jules started.

"No!" she surprised even herself. "We're not - I don't want to do that. I like Aurélien."

"Oh, belle," he said cockily, then sobered. "If it worries you though, it might be best. I don't want you to have another panic attack."

"We just have to be careful, okay?" she suggested. "Just be mindful of our surroundings. I don't want to stop hanging out with you, Aurélien. Really."

More French consultation, then Jules: "Okay, if you think that's best. We just be careful then."

"So maybe no more matches?" Aurélien said. Before YN could protest, he continued, "because they will keep trying to figure out who you're with, so no more matches and we hang out in each other's rooms. Sounds good?"

"Good," Jules said.

"Fine," YN replied defiantly, folding her arms.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "Your fucking attitude."

"I swear," Jules shook his head. "We may have to do something about it."

"We might," Aurélien agreed, their gazes turning hungry. YN gulped.

"Take a seat on the bed, chérie," Jules commanded. YN remained frozen. "What did I say?" The bass in his voice made her sit immediately on the edge.

"Take off your shoes then scoot up to the headboard," Aurélien said. Again she froze until his arched eyebrow basically said I know you heard me loud and clear.

She did as told, removing her mules and scooting back against the headboard. Jules and Aurélien toed off their sneakers, the soft thuds against the floor echoing in the room. She couldn't quite believe what was happening. The way they moved — their confidence, the unspoken understanding between them — made her breath catch in her throat.

Jules was the first to climb onto the bed, taking his place on her left. Aurélien followed, settling on her right. They were close enough that their warmth seeped into her skin, their combined presence intoxicating.

"You can back out at any time," Jules murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hand rested lightly on her knee. "We won’t push you to do anything you don’t want."

"Whatever you want," Aurélien added.

YN swallowed, trying to calm the swirl of emotions in her chest. She didn’t feel pressured — just overwhelmed in the best way possible. "Just kissing…for right now," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Because anything besides that, I think I might combust...

Both men nodded, their acceptance of her boundaries making her exhale in relief.

Jules leaned in first, tilting her chin gently with his fingers. His lips brushed against hers, warm and soft, the kiss starting slow. YN sighed into him, her hands hesitantly resting on his chest. Jules then deepened the kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek, coaxing small, breathy moans from her lips.

Aurélien’s hand slid up her thigh, staying over her clothes but sending sparks through her body. She broke the kiss with Jules, turning toward Aurélien, who was already leaning in. His kiss was firmer, more demanding, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck as he took control. YN moaned into his mouth, her body tingling as his thumb traced slow circles against her nape.

The feel of both their hands on her, their energy so different yet equally electrifying, had her melting. Jules pressed a kiss to the side of her neck while Aurélien nibbled gently on her lower lip, pulling away just enough to murmur against her mouth, "You know I should spank you for talking to me like that at the restaurant, don’t you?"

YN’s eyes widened. His tone was teasing, but the heat in his gaze said he meant every word.

Aurélien smirked as he kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. "But I’ll save that for another time," he added, his words a rumble against her lips.

That sounds like a promise, sir! her intrusive thoughts chimed in, but she pushed it aside.

Even though she had a really nice — and it was really nice — time with Enzo and Carina, doing two guys at once was too much for her at the moment, yet that didn't go without saying that she hadn't dreamt about it, dreamt about them.

For now, this was enough. This was perfect.

Jules' hands slipped up to cup her breasts over her blouse, his touch confident but not demanding. Aurélien followed suit, his large hand settling on her waist, his thumb brushing the edge of her rib cage.

YN let herself get lost in the sensations — their mouths on hers, their hands exploring. Her moans filled the space between kisses, soft gasps escaping as they found ways to make her tremble under their attention.

Aurélien broke the kiss, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You’re incredible, belle. Perfect."

Jules hummed his agreement, pressing a lingering kiss to her jawline. "Just say the word, and we’ll stop," he reminded her.

YN shook her head, her voice breathy as she replied, "Don’t stop. Not yet."

And with that, she gave herself over to the moment, letting their kisses and touches drown out every doubt. For now, she didn’t have to think about anything else — just the feeling of being cherished by both of them, right here and now.

The heat in the room thickened as their hands and lips explored, each movement a blend of curiosity and simmering passion. YN found herself caught between their bodies, Jules’ lips brushing against her neck while Aurélien captured her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless. Her hands, trembling with a mix of nervousness and desire, wandered over Jules’ toned chest. Her fingertips skimmed over his defined muscles before dipping lower, where she felt his erection straining against her touch.

Jules let out a low groan, his lips momentarily pausing on her neck. His eyes fluttered shut as her hand pressed more firmly. "Should I stop?" she asked, her hand stilling.

Jules shook his head, his voice rough with desire. "You’re good," he assured her. His words sent a thrill through her, and she bit her lower lip, the action catching Aurélien’s attention.

Aurélien pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching her face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm.

"No sex tonight," YN declared, her voice steady despite the warmth pooling in her stomach.

Both men nodded immediately, their agreement firm. "No sex," Aurélien echoed, his lips brushing her cheek.

"But…" she started, her voice trailing off. Jules raised a curious brow, silently encouraging her to continue. "I wouldn’t mind more kissing… and touching. If you’re okay with that."

Aurélien smirked, his hand cupping her face. "You should already know that I’m down," he teased, causing her and Jules to chuckle softly.

Jules grinned, his hand brushing lightly over her waist. "That’s fine. This is all about you, chérie."

"Exactly," Aurélien agreed, his warm gaze settling on her.

YN’s lips curved into a half-nervous, half-excited smile as she let their words sink in. "Good," she said, feeling a surge of boldness. Her eyes flicked between them before she clapped her hands playfully. "So… take off your pants. And those drawers."

Aurélien let out a laugh, his brow arching in mock indignation. "Damn, not you treating us like your little sluts," he joked, but he slid off the bed nonetheless. Jules followed, both of them making quick work of their clothing.

Aurélien unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. His shirt followed next, revealing his broad shoulders and toned chest, and then his boxers, leaving him gloriously bare. Jules mirrored his actions, peeling away his shirt, then his jeans and briefs in one fluid motion.

Both men stood before her, naked and unapologetically confident, their skin glistening under the dim lighting. The way their muscles flexed as they moved, the unapologetic confidence in their stances.

Bless you, Lord…

Bless Him indeed, praised her intrusive thoughts.

YN couldn’t stop her appreciative gaze from lingering. She exhaled deeply, her hands trembling slightly as she began to undress herself. First, her pants slid off, pooling around her ankles. Then came her halterneck top, revealing her bare shoulders and curves. Her panties were next, followed by the pasties she had carefully applied earlier. By the time she was finished, both men were back on the bed, flanking her sides as before.

"Okay, don’t make this awkward," she muttered, her cheeks warming at the vulnerable position she was in.

Aurélien chuckled, leaning in close to brush his lips against hers. "You’re the one making it awkward," he teased before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss.

"Very awkward," Jules added with a grin, his lips finding her neck again, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands moved on instinct, exploring them both — Aurélien’s firm chest and the ripple of Jules’ abs. Their touches grew bolder as well, Jules’ hands cupping her breast firmly while Aurélien’s lips wandered to her collarbone. YN’s head fell back against the headboard, a soft moan escaping her lips as their attention left her dizzy.

Jules gripped her jaw gently, tilting her face toward him so he could claim her lips. His kiss was deep, deliberate, his lips moving against hers with intoxicating intensity. Meanwhile, Aurélien scooted lower on the bed, his mouth latching onto her breast. The warmth of his tongue flicking over her nipple sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her, and she arched into his touch, her body responding instinctively to the sensations.

Jules’ free hand wandered downward, his fingers skimming the curve of her thigh before massaging the soft flesh with firm, slow circles. His touch was unhurried, as though he was savoring every second. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her thighs apart wider, creating more space for him to explore. His fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, his knuckles brushing against her clit in the faintest tease that made her gasp against his mouth.

"Can I touch you here?" Jules asked, his lips brushing against hers as his hand hovered at her center, waiting for her permission.

"Yes…" YN breathed, her voice trembling with need as her hips arched slightly, granting him better access. At the same moment, Aurélien’s mouth moved to her other breast, his teeth grazing her nipple before his tongue soothed the sting. The combined sensations left her head spinning, her body aflame with desire.

Jules’ fingers pressed against her folds, sliding through her wetness. He hissed softly, his reaction sending a thrill through her. "You’re so wet," he murmured, his lips barely moving from hers.

"How wet is she?" Aurélien asked, pulling back from her breasts, his voice rich with curiosity and amusement.

Jules didn’t hesitate, his hand moving briefly from her body. "Soaked," he replied, holding up his fingers, which glistened with her arousal. Without thinking, he brought them to her lips. YN didn’t need instruction — she opened her mouth, her tongue flicking over his fingers before she sucked them clean, her gaze locked with his.

"Putain," Jules muttered, his brown eyes darkened with lust as he stared at her. There was a raw hunger in his gaze, an intensity that made her shiver under his scrutiny. She moaned softly when his fingers slipped from her mouth, her body still tingling from the taste of herself on his skin.

"You sure this isn’t weird?" she managed to say, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Foot, meet mouth, yet again.

Aurélien chuckled lowly, his large hands sliding up to cup her waist. "Yes. Now be quiet and enjoy it," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The logical part of her brain — the one still vaguely aware of social norms — tried to remind her of the surreal nature of the situation, how the two of them had undoubtedly seen each other naked countless times before, not to mention this clearly wasn’t their rodeo. But that thought quickly dissolved when Jules silenced her with another kiss, this one gentler, almost reassuring, yet no less passionate.

Aurélien’s fingers joined the mix, his touch grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before moving to where Jules had left off. Jules’ hand slid downward again, his touch more assertive now, parting her folds with practiced ease. His fingers stroked her clit in small, deliberate circles while Aurélien’s fingers plunged into her slowly, stretching her.

The two worked in sync, their movements seamless and perfectly timed, as though they’d rehearsed this. Jules’ fingers teased her clit with increasing pressure while Aurélien’s plunged deeper, curling slightly to hit just the right spot that made her cry out, her hips rolling to meet their touch as the pleasure built to a near-overwhelming peak.

Aurélien’s lips found her neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice low and reverent. His fingers quickened their pace, his thumb brushing against her clit in time with Jules’ movements.

Jules watched her intently, his free hand tracing lazy patterns over her thigh while his other continued its rhythm. "This is all for you, chérie," he whispered, his voice laced with heat. "Just cum."

YN’s breaths came out in ragged pants, her body trembling as the sensations threatened to consume her. She was lost to the pleasure, her mind a haze of touch and desire and soft, murmured words. "I can’t…" she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

"You can," Aurélien assured her, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers hit that spot again. "And you will."

With a strangled cry, YN finally gave in, her body shuddering violently as waves of pleasure washed over her. Jules and Aurélien didn’t let up, their hands guiding her through the high until her body relaxed, boneless and sated between them. Both of them leaned down to kiss her softly — Aurélien on her cheek, Jules on her lips.

YN slowly came down from her orgasmic high, her body resettling after the aftershocks had dissipated. Letting out a sigh, she glanced down and spotted their erections – both of them still hard beyond measure, desperate for release.

"Should I suck–"

"No," Aurélien said whilst Jules simultaneously shook his head.

"I’m fine," added Jules. "We’re good."

Her eyes traveled back onto their penises. Don’t look fine to me… "You sure?"

"Positive," they said in unison.

"There’s always next time," said Aurélien as he slipped off the bed, grabbing his phone before making his way to the bathroom. "I’ll be back."

And with that, he closed the door behind him and YN was briefly consumed with her thoughts.

Kinda mean to have him rub one out when you have perfectly capable mouth and hands. Shameful, her intrusive thoughts chided.

No - you stood your ground on your boundaries. This is a win-win situation, countered her rational thoughts.

"If you keep staring at it, you’ll just make it harder," Jules’ voice pulled her out of her reverie and her gaze connected with his. As usual, Jules was cool and collected – relaxing comfortably in bed with his arms tucked behind his head.

"What?"

"My dick," he explained. "Keep staring at it like that and it’ll just get harder. Come ‘ere and cuddle."

Ooh, yes!

YN smiled brightly at his words and scooted beside him, snuggling deep into his side and hummed when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you doing okay?" he wondered after a few silent moments of her lying on his chest. "I know that this is a lot for you, but I want to make sure you’re good with…everything….Auré and I at the same time."

"I’m good, Jules."

"Seriously?"

YN lifted her head up from his chest to stare at him. "Yeah…just getting used to it. The possibility of–"

"Fucking us both?"

Even though that was exactly what she thinking, it still made her cheeks warm upon hearing it aloud. This time that they’ve spent together was nice and it did make her curious about how she could handle being so…full. Unlike her disastrous – and perhaps questionable – porn choices, no one has had the pleasure of being inside her other hole. Not like there hasn’t been any instances on trying; it just never panned out correctly. Perhaps she wasn’t doing it the right way (as if one needed extra instruction on anal sex) or maybe it wasn’t with the right partner (which seemed like the case). Either way, she never given it much thought besides now, that is.

"How did you guys do it before? With that girl from Bordeaux?"she wondered and Jules’ eyebrows furrowed. "I just want to know the positions–"

"We Eiffel Tower’d her." Direct. To the point. No hesitation.

YN tried to suppress a giggle at the double entendre, but failed miserably and a small chortle managed to escape. "Two French guys Eiffel Towering a girl?"

Jules dawned onto the gist of what she was saying and he even let out a chuckle himself. "I know, the joke writes itself." Then, he cleared his throat and exhaled a breath. "I mean….shit…we were so young. No anal sex though, just her mouth and pussy. We can just do that if it makes you more comfortable."

Interesting. "Have you tried it before?"

"Once," he said, the edges of his mouth curving upwards into a mischievous grin as he reminisced. "Not a personal fave, but lots of lube can help with that."

Then, they heard the toilet flush followed by the sounds of running water. Seconds later, Aurélien made his way out of the bathroom and sauntered over to the bed, sliding back onto his side as if he never left.

"You good, bébé?" Her overly caring — lover? situationship? — asked as one of his hands trailed down her spine.

"Yes," YN said, doing her darnedest to not moan as he caressed her soft skin, yet she did allow a shiver to go down her body upon feeling his slightly damp fingers.

"YN's curious about anal sex," said Jules, and she shot him a warning look, which caused him to laugh.

"You’re a freaky girl," was all Aurélien said as his hand continued its route downwards, moving from her back to the top of her ass. "I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet."

"How do you know if I’m ready for all of that?" she retorted, accusingly, turning over to the other side to give him her full attention.

Instead of answering verbally, Aurélien’s hand skimmed lightly over her ass cheeks and then gently coaxed them apart until he came in contact with her virgin anus. She flinched at the feeling, and Aurélien scoffed.

"You’re not ready for all of that," he repeated then moved his hand to her lower back. YN rolled her eyes despite herself and a grin appeared on his annoyingly handsome face.

"Anyways," she started, turning around once more to Jules. "what time is it? I should get some things packed."

Jules removed one hand from behind his head to grab his phone from the other bedside table, tapping the screen to check the time. "Almost midnight."

Shit. She had six hours before she had to be up and ready to head to the airport.

With a groan, YN carefully slipped out of bed, scooting all the way down to the bottom edge and then walking over to the closet to take out her carry-on. Meanwhile, the boys didn’t move an inch – just lounged there like the sexy predators they embodied, naked as the day they were born.

"I’m surprised that you guys didn’t put on clothes or boxers…something," she muttered as she began to rifle through the closet for clothes to wear in England.

"We saw each other naked too many times to count," Aurélien said as he picked up his phone to scroll mindlessly through it. "Why? Should we put on some clothes?"

"I think she might be kicking us out," proclaimed Jules as he watched her pack then unpack her clothing selection from his side of the bed. "Pack a jacket, chérie. It’s supposed to be fourteen degrees Celsius in London tomorrow."

Celsius? What? "Huh?" That definitely made her halt her movements.

"Ah, you gotta say it in American, JK," explained Aurélien with an amused chuckle.

Jules muttered a curse under his breath. "Fifty-seven degrees your temperature."

Then why don’t they just say that? "Oh, thanks." YN scanned her closet for that jean jacket her mama packed, found it, and then place it inside the carry-on – along with another coord set, a maxi dress, two linen shirts, a pair of jeans, her mules, and some underwear. Doing the most for two days, of course. Always. But she needed options. "And for the record, I’m not kicking y’all out. Just…noticing."

"Noticing bad or noticing good?" This came from Aurélien, who finally shifted his gaze away from whatever he was watching on his phone to her.

YN shrugged nonchalantly. "Just noticing." Both of them let out a barely audible utterance. Hmm… "Sleepover?"

"Always."

"Of course."

Satisfied with both her clothing choices and their answers, YN decided to leave packing her skincare and makeup until tomorrow morning then grabbed her bonnet from the dresser and place it over her head before padding inside the bathroom to do her nightly routine.

She cleaned her face quickly, removing her makeup and then brushing her teeth. YN pulled on an oversized t-shirt and panties after she left the bathroom, climbing back into bed and in her designated spot in the middle.

They popped on her like grease out of a pan – arms wrapping around her (they definitely rehearsed that move), lips on either side of her neck, phones forgotten. The urban nightlife filtered through the windows, its sounds and lights scattered across the room to create the perfect ambiance as YN basked in being sandwiched between the two of them, enjoying the way both of their bodies molded next to hers, their scent wafting through her nostrils.

I could get used to this.

"Night, boys."

"Night, chérie." A little grumble from Jules, cuddling close.

"Bonne nuit, bébé." A low, yet deep murmur from Aurélien.

Her boys. YN flashed a wide grin in the dark, feeling cozy and relaxed. With the warmth surrounding her, she let sleep take over, happily drifting into dreamland.

______________________________________________

The alarm blaring jolted YN awake. She found herself sandwiched between Jules and Aurélien, both still deep in sleep.

"Turn it off," Aurélien groaned.

"Working on it," she sassed back, looking around the room. "If I could find it…"

Her phone had somehow ended up in her purse near the armchair. Among her notifications:

LewLew Bean: Text when you land tomorrow x. Roscoe's excited to see you!

BallerAlert: YN_YLN's ex-boyfriend spotted with Victoria's Secret model at LA hotspot

She chuckled at how they didn't even use Damari's name anymore.

"Where you going?" Aurélien's hand caught her wrist as she headed to the bathroom.

"Getting ready for my flight or did you forget?"

He kissed his teeth, muttering something before rolling over. Jules continued snoring, pillow still covering his head.

They're annoying, she thought, watching them sleep, but damn if they aren't cute. After last night, everything felt… different. Maybe juggling two French best friends wasn't as complicated as she'd thought.

After showering and packing her toiletries, she pulled on her airport fit - half-zip pullover, cropped tee, wide-leg sweats. She was lacing up her Nikes when they finally stirred.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauties."

"Morning."

"Mmmhmm."

"We can order breakfast before I go."

"Boo," Aurélien pouted.

Jules giggled, licking his lips. "Sounds like a plan."

While Aurélien used one of the hotel toothbrushes, Jules beckoned YN over with a crooked finger. Like a good girl, she sashayed to his side of the bed, letting him guide her down until they were eye-level.

His lips met hers softly - the kind of kiss that said don't forget us. All gentle pressure and sweet promise.

"Be safe over there," he murmured, fingers trailing from her shoulders to her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. "I don't know if I like your hair better up or down." He studied her low-maintenance bun.

"I prefer it down," Aurélien said as he returned to his side of the bed.

"Yeah, might be my favorite too," Jules agreed before heading to brush his teeth.

They shared breakfast - eggs, pastries, fruit - stealing bites from each other's plates like they'd done this a hundred times.

After getting dressed, they followed her as she got on the elevator, their hands filled with her bags. Both men hugged her goodbye in the lobby - Jules kissed her forehead while Aurélien squeezed her waist.

"See you Sunday," she promised.

"See you, cherie." Jules' response was sweet as usual, his eyes filled with longing.

"Don't have too much fun with Lewis," Aurélien said with a wink - ever the jokester but YN could tell that he was going to miss her too.

She gathered her carry-on and tote, handing them off to the driver before slipping inside the back seat, watching them wave as her Uber then pulled away.

Different, she thought again. But good different.

______________________________________________

"You really didn't have to pick me up," YN said as Lewis loaded her carry-on into his Mercedes SUV.

"Please, what kind of host would I be?"

A fine as hell one, her intrusive thoughts noted, appreciating how his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. But for once, the attraction stayed purely aesthetic - like admiring art in a museum. No urge to touch, just respect for the craftsmanship.

A happy bark interrupted her thoughts. Roscoe's wrinkled face appeared between the front seats, tongue lolling out.

"Oh my god, he's even cuter in person!" She reached back to scratch behind his ears. The bulldog immediately flopped into her touch, making Lewis laugh.

"He's usually shy with new people." Lewis glanced over as he pulled onto the motorway. "You must be special."

"Nah, animals just know good people. Right, Roscoe?"

Another enthusiastic bark.

"So," Lewis's gap-toothed smile flashed, "tell me about these French boys of yours."

YN groaned, but found herself smiling. There was something comfortable about Lewis - like talking to a friend who'd seen it all and judged none of it.

"Well," she settled in for the drive, Roscoe's head now resting on her arm. "Last night was... interesting."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say there was some three-way kissing involved..."

"Holy shit!" Lewis nearly swerved. "You really out here living your best life!"

"The French are wild though."

"And you're just now figuring this out?"

Frank Ocean's "Pink + White" played softly as they drove through London's posh neighborhoods. Finally, they pulled up to a stunning Georgian house, complete with climbing vines and white gravel drive.

"This is so British," YN marveled, following Roscoe up the path.

The door opened to reveal a petite white woman with cropped hair. "This must be YN!"

"This is my mum, Carmen," Lewis said casually, slipping inside with her bags in tow.

First I'm staying here, now I'm meeting his mother? Does she think we're—

GURRRRLLLL! her intrusive thoughts screeched.

"Hi Miss Carmen," YN opened her arms for a hug, breathing in cookies and peonies - the most British smell ever.

"Come in! How was your flight?" Carmen ushered her inside. The house was gorgeous - checkerboard foyer tiles, winding staircase, wainscoting, and family photos everywhere. The kitchen was all navy cabinets, marble counters, and brass fixtures. "I've made some lunch. Would you like fish and chips?"

"I love fish and chips!" YN burst out enthusiastically, making Carmen's eyebrows shoot up. "Sorry, I tend to get—"

"Don't apologize. I love the enthusiasm. It's cod, okay?"

"Sounds good." Carmen plated the food and set it before YN. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, you're so polite. And pretty."

Lewis finally appeared, leaning against the counter. "I'll show you your bedroom in a second. How is it?"

"She didn't try it yet, love." Carmen urged YN to take a bite. The fish was perfectly seasoned. Carmen beamed at her reaction. "It's my famous seasoning blend. Bit different than what you'd expect from a pub, but it's good right?"

"So good," YN agreed, trying the fries. Then YN's foot-in-mouth disease struck: "So… who do you think I am to Lewis?"

"I know you two are good friends," Carmen smiled. "Besides, this one is making me wait to become a grandmother unfortunately."

"You have Roscoe, Mum," Lewis said with a small smile playing on his lips.

"A human grandchild would be nice."

"You have those too. Four of them to be exact," Lewis pointed out.

"I want more!"

"And you will. When I retire."

"In three years!" Carmen harrumphed.

YN shrugged, taking another fry. "I mean, you are forty with no kids. Seems sus."

Lewis's jaw dropped while Carmen cheered. "Thank you!"

"He needs a nice woman to date. None of those model types. We've been there, done that too many times over," his mother continued.

"Maybe a businesswoman?" YN suggested.

"Ooh yes! Do you know any single women, preferably ages thirty-two to thirty-seven?"

"Okay, mum, that's enough. YN's not here to play matchmaker."

"I do, actually," YN said, making them both exclaim: "Really?!"

"I mean, she's divorced and has two kids - six-year-old twins but they're so cute and well-behaved."

"I don't know about becoming a stepdad," Lewis said apprehensively. "I don't want to overstep."

"Lewis, love, you're so great with kids!" Carmen insisted.

I think she's just willing to take on anyone at this moment.

"What she look like?" Lewis asked.

"Oh? You're taking it seriously?"

He shrugged. "Just curious, is all."

"Mmhmm," YN took out her phone, opened Instagram, and typed in 'Sabine Wurley', her label's A&R exec - a gorgeous Trini-Canadian with toffee skin, doe eyes, and all the Caribbean curves to match.

"Holy shit she's gorgeous," Carmen gasped.

"She's nice looking," Lewis said flatly. YN stared at him like he had three heads. "Give me her number."

"If I'm going to throw the alley-oop, don't fuck up her heart. I love Sab a lot."

"I won't."

"Promise me," YN pressed. "I'm deadass."

"Fine, fine, I promise. Dang."

YN forwarded the contact with a smirk. Sabine and Lewis? She could work with that.

🌹🇫🇷 Group Chat:

Aurélien 🌹 Miss you already 😘 These hotel beds are too big without you

Jules 🇫🇷 Speak for yourself. I'm spread out like a starfish

YN Y'all are so dramatic 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 Says the one who needed us both to sleep last night

Jules 🇫🇷 Exactly. Training bout to start. Talk soon.

YN Have fun! Be careful...

Jules 🇫🇷 You worried about us? Cute.

Aurélien 🌹 Very cute. Tell Lewis we said hi but not too enthusiastically 😏

YN smiled at her phone, scrolling through the group chat with her French baguettes. Twenty-four hours felt longer than it should.

Girl, you're down BAD, her intrusive thoughts teased as she pocketed her phone, letting Roscoe lead her around Silverstone's paddock. The bulldog stopped to sniff literally everything before finally choosing the perfect patch of grass.

"Is that YN?"

"Who's she?"

"The singer!"

"Why does she have Roscoe?"

The paddock photographers weren't confused at all - their cameras clicked away while she tried to wrangle an overexcited bulldog who'd spotted another driver's water bottle.

"Roscoe, no — that's not yours!" She tugged gently at his leash.

Too busy texting Jules back ("Show them what that ass do 😏"), she crashed right into someone in an orange racing suit - McLaren? "Oh shit, sorry!"

"No worries!" Blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I'm Lando."

She introduced herself politely, taking in his cute boyish features. Her horn-o-meter, usually quick to jump for any attractive man with an accent, stayed firmly at 0. Maybe she was catching feelings for her French boys if this British cutie wasn't doing it for her.

Or maybe, her intrusive thoughts suggested, you just have a type now: tall, dark, and speaks French.

Back at the Mercedes garage, Lewis scooped her into a hug. "Thanks for dog duty."

Rosa, his comms personnel, led Roscoe to his bed in the corner while Lewis started suiting up for qualifying.

"Good energy today," he said, zipping up his race suit. "I can feel it."

"You sound just like my mama with all this energy talk."

"Your mama knows what's up then."

YN rolled her eyes, checking her phone again.

"Missing the French boys already?"

"Mind your business!"

"Not very hot girl summer of you," he teased, pulling on his gloves. "Thought you weren't catching feelings?"

"I'm not!" But even she heard the uncertainty in her voice. A little 'missing you' doesn't mean anything, right?

Whatever you say, both her intrusive and rational thoughts weren't too convinced.

"Mhmm. Sure." He grinned. "Keep telling yourself that while you check your phone every two minutes."

"Shouldn't you be focusing on qualifying?"

"I am. And you're focusing on your messages from Jules and Aurélien."

She watched him qualify - still clueless about what was happening but proud of his P4 position based on everyone's reactions. But even as the garage celebrated, her mind wandered to Hamburg, wondering if her French boys were doing well at practice.

After qualifying, YN and Lewis walked arm in arm through the paddock, Roscoe trotting beside them. She pretended not to notice the cameras clicking or hear the whispers.

"They'd really lose it if they knew about your French situation," Lewis murmured.

"Don't you dare—"

"I would never. But it's funny watching them try to figure out who you're with."

Back at his place, they ordered Indian takeout and sprawled on his massive couch, Roscoe snoring between them.

"You're leaving early tomorrow?"

"Miss my boys," she admitted, shoving another piece of naan in her mouth.

"Oh, really?" he teased, but his smile was kind. "Though I once drove six hours just to see this model for like... two hours max."

"Lewis Hamilton, you dog!"

"I heard women do crazy things when they're dickmatized."

"I am NOT dickmatized!" She threw a pillow at him. "I just... miss them."

"Mhmm." His knowing look said everything. "It's cool though. Young, free, exploring. Just be careful with those feelings."

"I know." She got up to hug him, ready to head to her room to tuck in for the night. "Good luck tomorrow. Show these young boys how it's done."

"Always do." But she could tell he was a bit sad she'd miss the race. "Text me when you land?"

"Of course. And thanks for... everything."

"Anytime, Lil' Bit."

She pretended not to notice how soft his smile was. Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, was a whole teddy bear underneath all that swagger.

_______________________________________________

The next morning, scrolling through her phone in the airport lounge, she saw:

PopCultureDaily: YN's European Tour continues! From Monaco clubs to Silverstone with Lewis Hamilton - sis is LIVING 🔥 [Photos: YN dancing in Monaco, walking with Lewis at Silverstone]

view all comments.... celebtea: Hot Girl Summer: Achievement Unlocked ↳ ynglobal: First French footballers now F1? We stan a versatile queen ↳ tsrfans: Better than that NFL bench warmer mayegurl: Still waiting for tea about those TWO French players 👀 ↳ maggiegerty: Wait what? TWO?? sportsgossip: Lewis Hamilton and YN dating? ↳ f1insider: They're just friends y'all ↳ fanpage: The way he looks at her though!

"Now boarding flight 2847 to Hamburg…"

She made he way to board her plane and settled into her aisle seat, already thinking about seeing Jules and Aurélien, when a deep voice interrupted:

"Excuse me, that's my window seat."

YN looked up - and up - into warm brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. The stranger was gorgeous in that intellectual way - tall and lean but solid, perfect fade, skin like dark honey, full lips curled in a gentle smile. His navy Tom Ford suit and Cartier watch screamed tenured professor with family money.

Her horn-o-meter jumped to 9.

Another one for the roster? her intrusive thoughts suggested.

Finally, not an athlete, her rational side approved.

"Javaughn Taylor," he introduced himself as he settled in, his Northeast accent surprising her. "Heading to Hamburg for work."

"YN," she replied. "What kind of work?"

"A conference. Economics at Hamburg University. I teach at Columbia."

They talked the whole flight - about music (he played jazz piano), books (they both loved Octavia Butler), travel (he'd just been to Cape Town). His laugh was rich, his intelligence obvious but not showy. He really reminded her of that hot professor everyone had a crush on in college but never dared to approach.

When they landed, she had his number and a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with turbulence.

The universe really testing my French situation, she thought, watching him stride away in those perfectly tailored trousers.

TO BE CONTINUED......

[emjayewrites]

OMG THIS IS A LIT TO UNPACK BUT YEAH LETS GET IN IT:

1. They know how to share very very well okay!! Like the tag teaming y’all are gonna— let me shut tf up!! 😭

2. Aurelien knows that he’s fine as fuck. Like that man knew he was HIM since he was like 8 years old.

3. This is the bare minimum but trust me this is such a strong foundation to have especially since she never gotten it before.

4. Mr. Koundé is a dom - point blank period!

5. They both are dominant men!!!

6. I did this to be petty honestly. I can’t stand Lando

7. The group chat is too funny! 😂

8. But does the joke not write itself? Like my favorite part ever 🤣

9. We shall see about Javaughn 👀👀

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (3/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @judesvirtual, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @pepfectionary, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @enretrogue, @judesprxncess, @yeea-nah @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce

CHAPTER 3: Another One, Thank You!

Hamburg greeted YN with unexpected sunshine and a hotel room with a view of the harbor. She'd barely finished unpacking when her phone buzzed:

Aurélien 🌹 Settled in? I'm taking you somewhere nice tonight

YN Define 'nice' 🤔

Aurélien You'll see. Wear something that shows off what you want me to touch later 😏

YN's mouth went dry. The man did not believe in subtle flirting.

YN And if I want you to touch everything?

Aurélien Then why did you wanna get dinner? We could've just chilled in my room

"Touché," she muttered.

Her phone buzzed again, this time the group chat:

Jules 🇫🇷 You good YN?

Aurélien 🌹 Taking YN to Heimat tonight

Jules 🇫🇷 Good choice. Those views 👌🏾 Treat her well but not too well, I need her tomorrow 😌

YN I'm right here! 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 We know 😈

These men are going to be the death of me. She was about to respond when an Instagram notification caught her eye:

deuxmoi: SPOTTED: Grammy winner YN_YLN with French football star Jules Koundé at froyo spot in Düsseldorf! A source says they looked "very cozy" 👀 [Fan photo attached]

view all comments...

popculture_daily: The way he's looking at her though! 🔥 ynglobaldom: MY QUEEN WINNING chartdata: Her power>>> gossipgirl2024: Wait didn't you say you saw her with TWO French players? Drop the tea sis

Shit. I have to keep this lowkey.

For what? her intrusive thoughts challenged. Men get seen with different women all the time. Did Damari hide his fun?

That makes you no better than him! her rational side countered. Keep it under wraps.

She had to agree — the potential scandal of being seen with both of them...

Though part of her wanted to say fuck it. Why should she hide?

"Because being famous is annoying sometimes," she muttered, unpacking her suitcase and arranging her outfits in the closet. She plugged in her essential oil diffuser — lavender to calm her nerves — and lined up her skincare on the marble bathroom counter.

The challenge: what to wear for dinner with Aurélien? Something that said "I'm sexy but not desperate for dick" even though she was, in fact, kind of desperate for his. After twenty minutes of trying on different options, she settled on a black silk slip dress that hit mid-thigh – classy but with enough potential to make his eyes darken.

A quick shower to freshen up, then she wrapped herself in the hotel's fluffy robe and started her getting-ready playlist. Her favorite songs filled the room as she did her makeup, singing along while blending her eyeshadow:

"I might kill my ex, not the best idea… His new girlfriend's next, how'd I get here?"

She switched to Beyoncé as she curled her hair: "I'm warning who I bring to this dinner…"

How appropriate, she thought, pinning half her curls up to show off her neck.

By 8PM, she was applying a final coat of lipgloss when a knock echoed through the suite. Her heart, and pussy, jumped.

She opened the door to find Aurélien looking edible in a fitted black button-down and slacks. His eyes did that slow drag over her body that made her feel like prey - in the best way.

"Beautiful," he said, his signature smirk appearing. "Ready?"

"Let me grab my bag."

His hand found the small of her back as they walked to the elevator - always touching, always claiming space.

Heimat had good lighting and harbor views, and their corner table was intimate without trying too hard. Aurélien pulled out her chair, then sat close enough that his knee pressed against hers.

"So," he reached for the wine list, "besides being an incredible singer and looking gorgeous, what else should I know about YN?"

"You tell me what you want to know."

"Everything." No hesitation. His directness made her flush.

Over wine and appetizers, she learned he was obsessed with basketball ("Knicks till I die, but Lakers when they're good"), played the piano, and had strong opinions about American culture.

His hand had migrated to her thigh, but his touch wasn't purely sexual – he squeezed gently when she talked about her music, traced patterns when she mentioned her mom, and pulled back when she tensed discussing her past.

"That's why the Browns are gonna have a trash season," he said when Damari came up.

"You follow American football?"

"Enough to know your ex is gonna be riding the bench," Aurélien said simply. "But his loss is my gain."

"Our gain," she corrected.

"Ah yes, can't forget Jules." He grinned.

The conversation flowed easily - from childhood dreams to current goals, favorite books to worst dates. He was surprisingly funny, dropping deadpan jokes that had her snorting into her wine.

"Did you know," he said seriously, "that Jules sleepwalks?"

"No way."

"Once found him trying to make a sandwich in his sleep. Completely naked."

By dessert, she'd learned more about him than she expected - how his eyes crinkled when he really smiled, how he gestured with his hands when excited about a topic, how his thumb would stroke her skin absently while he listened.

"Want to take a walk?" he suggested after paying. "The harbor's pretty at night."

"You just want to get handsy."

"Always." That smirk again. "But I also want to explore with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Explore what exactly?"

His hand found her lower back again. "Whatever you want, ma belle."

The harbor lights danced on the water as they walked, Aurélien's hand never leaving her waist. He stopped at a quieter spot, turning her to face him.

"Been wanting to do this properly," he murmured, cradling her face. His kiss was different from the hungry ones he usually gave - slow, deliberate, commanding in its patience. He took his time exploring her mouth until her knees went weak.

When he pulled back, she couldn't help the foolish grin spreading across her face.

"Look at that smile," he teased, thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Cute."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, still grinning.

"Would it be crazy if I asked you to spend the night?"

Her first instinct was yes, but then memories of Jules from last night flooded back. Did this make her… a whore? Going from one man's dick to potentially another's?

Girl, who cares? her intrusive thoughts chimed in. It's YOUR hot girl summer.

"I should be honest," she started. "Jules and I…"

"I know," he said softly. "Saw you both in the elevator, remember? Look, this is a lot - physically, emotionally. We go at your pace."

She nodded slowly. "Then… yes. I'd like to stay."

They swung by her hotel for essentials - bonnet, skincare, tomorrow's clothes (and maybe some sexy underwear, just in case).

The Westin Elbphilharmonie towered over the other side of the harbor, all glass and waves meant to mirror the water below. Aurélien's suite was minimalist luxury - cream furnishings, huge windows, and a balcony that made the city look like scattered stars.

"Make yourself at home," he said, taking her overnight bag.

Her heart raced. No turning back now.

Aurélien set her overnight bag on the chaise while YN slipped off her sandals, placing her purse on the bedside table.

"Ever seen Pineapple Express?" he asked, scrolling through the hotel's movie selection.

"Obviously. I'm not uncultured."

His laugh echoed off the suite's walls. "Good. Because I quote this movie way too much."

He turned the movie on and then made his way to the kitchenette - his gait full of unwavering swagger - to place a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

They settled into comfortable silence on the bed, sharing buttery popcorn while Seth Rogen descended into drug dealer chaos. Around the time James Franco started saying "Thug Life," YN decided to start her nighttime routine.

Opening her overnight bag, she grabbed her essentials: makeup wipes, CeraVe cleanser, toner, essence, vitamin C serum, moisturizer, and face oil. But as she started removing her makeup in the bathroom, the anxiety hit like a wave.

Whore. Slut. Can't even wait a day between men.

Her hands trembled as she tried to remove her lashes. The DeuxMoi post kept flashing in her mind - what if people found out about both of them? She wasn't really a whore, was she? Just... exploring. Finding herself. Why did that make her bad?

"YN?" Aurélien's soft knock startled her. "You good? Been in there a while."

"Yes," she squeaked, but her reflection showed panic in her eyes. She gripped the counter, trying to count breaths like her therapist taught her.

The door opened. Aurélien took one look at her and his whole demeanor shifted - the cocky swagger replaced by gentle concern.

"Panic attack?" He stepped closer, fingers finding her pulse point. His protector mode was sweet, though she wished she wasn't seeing it like this.

No shit, she thought, but couldn't speak.

Without a word, he reached for a shower cap, carefully removing each bobby pin from her curls. "Sit," he guided her to the toilet seat.

The shower started running, steam slowly filling the room. He disappeared, returning with her bonnet.

First the shower cap, then the satin bonnet, his movements impossibly gentle for such large hands as he placed them on her head, ensuring each tendril of hair was securely covered.

His eyes met hers. "Can I take off your clothes?" She gave him a look. "It's for the shower," he explained. "Warm showers will help."

She nodded, letting him care for her in this unexpected way.

Aurélien's hands reached for the zipper of her dress. His usual intensity was replaced by something softer - each movement careful, protective.

"Arms up," he murmured, and she complied, letting him pull the silk over her head. Instead of his usual hungry gaze, his eyes held only concern.

This man who looks like he could break hearts for sport, her rational thoughts marveled, is treating me like I'm made of glass.

He unhooked her bra with practiced ease, but there was nothing sexual in the way he helped her step out of her underwear. His touch remained clinical, respectful.

"Temperature good?" he asked, guiding her toward the steam.

She nodded, watching as he rolled up his sleeves to test the water himself. This was a different Aurélien from the one who smirked and made suggestive comments, who exuded raw sexuality. This was the big brother who protected his siblings, the friend who looked out for Jules.

"You don't have to stay," she managed.

"I know." He helped her into the shower. "But I want to."

Maybe, her rational thoughts whispered, we've underestimated him. Maybe there's more here than just physical attraction.

The warm water began to calm her racing heart, and with it came a new understanding: Aurélien Tchouaméni was full of surprises.

"Can I join you?" he asked softly.

She bit her bottom lip, nodding. Her eyes couldn't help but follow as he undressed, appreciating how the muscles in his chest flexed, how his dark skin seemed to glow in the bathroom's soft light, and how gorgeous his penis and testicles were when his boxers fell to the floor. But where normally he'd smirk at her obvious appreciation, now he remained focused on her well-being.

He stepped into the shower, reaching for the hotel's body wash. The scent of lavender filled the steam as he worked the soap between his palms, then started with her shoulders. His strong fingers found knots she didn't even know she had, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

Working down her arms, then her hips, his touch remained therapeutic rather than teasing. He squatted to massage her thighs and calves, his hands firm but gentle on her tired muscles.

"Better?" he asked, looking up at her through wet lashes.

The anxiety was melting away under his careful attention, replaced by something warmer, deeper than just attraction.

Oh, she thought. This could be dangerous in a whole different way.

YN woke to Aurélien's soft snores in her ear, his arm heavy around her waist. His t-shirt swallowed her whole, smelling like his cologne. Last night after the shower, she'd barely managed to pull it on before passing out, emotionally drained.

At least I didn't drool, she thought, becoming very aware of his morning wood pressing against her ass. She stretched - trying to reach her phone on the nightstand.

His arm tightened, grinding closer. "Ne bouge pas, ma belle," (Don't move, beautiful) he muttered, voice impossibly deeper and raspier in the morning. His stubble scratched her cheek as he nuzzled closer.

Even sleeping he's cute as fuck, both her thoughts agreed.

She rolled her eyes despite smiling. Being little spoon was nice, but she needed her phone. One more stretch and - success!

7:30 AM. Notifications lit up her screen:

Mama 💕 Baby girl your crystals told me you had anxiety last night. Did you use that lavender oil I packed? Mercury isn't even in retrograde so this is weird. Light some sage when you can 🌟✨ Also use protection! 😘

Big Kyle You good? Haven't heard from you. These European men treating you right or do I need to catch a flight? 🤨 Send me your location just in case. Love you kid

LewLew Bean Hope Hamburg's treating you well. Saw that DeuxMoi post, don't stress about it. People always talk, let them. Roscoe says hi! [photo of his dog attached]

She smiled at their different approaches - her mom's spiritual advice, Big Kyle's protectiveness, and Lewis just being... Lewis.

Last night's panic attack embarrassed her; breaking down in front of Aurélien wasn't exactly hot girl summer behavior. But seeing his gentler side, how naturally he switched from sexy to protective…

His snoring hitched, arm pulling her closer. "Dors, bébé." (Sleep, baby)

Man has a point, she thought, putting it back on the charger.

YN snuggled deeper into Aurélien's embrace, letting his snores lull her into that peaceful space between sleep and wakefulness. It reminded her of how Damari used to—

No.

No more thoughts about that untalented bench warmer. Her summer was for better things now. Like the way Aurélien's arm tightened around her whenever she moved. Or how Jules' kisses made her dizzy. Or whatever other adventures Europe had in store.

Four weeks left. The thought nagged at her. Maybe she should make the most of it - take a little detour before the semi-finals? Visit Lewis early, see what Silverstone was about? Or maybe hit up another city first, then see Lewis?

What about our French boys? her intrusive thoughts demanded. Can't just leave them hanging!

But she wouldn't be leaving, not really. Just… expanding her horizons. She'd be back for the semis, back to see which of them could make her toes curl faster. Besides, wasn't that the whole point of hot girl summer? Freedom to do whatever - and whoever - she wanted?

I'll tell them later, she decided. After I figure out where I want to go.

Aurélien mumbled something in French against her neck, pulling her closer.

But right now, she thought, closing her eyes, right now I'm exactly where I want to be.

______________________________________________

The Hamburg Arena hummed with pre-match energy as YN made her way through the VIP corridors. She spotted Aurélien talking to Cama, catching his wink when she waved.

Then she saw Jules - or rather, felt him before she saw him. He rounded the corner in his pre-match warmup gear, dreads pulled back, all focused energy until his eyes landed on her. That intense game face melted into a smile that made her legs wobble.

"There's my girl," he said, closing the distance between them. His hand found her waist immediately, guiding her toward a private alcove. There was something different about match-day Jules — a coiled energy that made him seem even more dangerous than usual.

"Are you doing okay?" His eyebrows creased with worry. "Auré told me you had an anxiety attack last night."

"Wow, you guys run your mouth too much," she snapped without thinking.

Jules let out a dark chuckle that made her stomach flip. "What part of 'our girl' don't you realize, YN? Of course, we're gonna talk about things regarding your well-being. Now, answer the question: are you good now?" His hands rubbed up and down her arms. YN nodded. "Open that pretty mouth of yours and use your words," Jules said, voice dropping into an authoritative tone that made her swoon.

Okay Daddy Jules, her intrusive thoughts purred. Oui, oui...

"Yes."

His grin was wicked. "I missed you. Did you miss me or did you have too much fun with Auré?"

"Yes, only a little bit though."

"Only a little bit?" His eyebrows rose. "Well, I guess I have to change your mind then." His lips captured hers again, one hand cradling her face. "You. Should. Spend. The. Night. With. Me." Each word punctuated with a kiss.

"I like that but..." she managed as his lips found her collarbone.

"But?" Those brown eyes looked up at her.

"I'm catching a flight... to London."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Want to visit your other man?"

"Nah, nah. Lewis is a friend. Yes he's fine as fuck but I don't do older guys. Not my type."

Jules chuckled. "Yeah, that's cool. Are you leaving me and Auré?"

"No, never, at least not right now. Four weeks from now, yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "But it'll be two days max. Hell, I don't think I'll even be there for the race. Just wanted to drop in and catch up and see his dog. Have you seen pictures of Roscoe? He's a cutie."

"I follow Lewis on Instagram. He's the GOAT."

Of course he does, she thought.

"But I'm happy you're coming back. It's good to explore different cities. Broaden your horizons." He waggled his eyebrows before kissing her again. "You told Auré?"

"No, not yet, but instead of one-on-one dinner... maybe something for the... uh... three of us?" His look said we're doing this? "No, not like that...." His eyes widened. "Maybe. We'll see. Just figured it'd be great to talk and chill before I'm off to London."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go before Coach has a conniption wondering where I am."

They walked back toward the locker room. Players and staff bustled around them, some nodding at Jules, others pretending not to notice how close he stayed to her. Outside the locker room doors, he turned to face her. The intensity in his eyes was different now - part pre-match focus, part something else entirely.

"See you after the match?"

"Of course."

He leaned down for one more kiss, this one slower, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips. Then he pulled back, that game-face sliding back into place as he disappeared into the locker room.

YN headed toward her seat, trying to focus on the match ahead and not on how dinner with both of them would go.

Focus on football, she told herself. But even she knew that was a lost cause.

______________________________________________

The match ended in a 0-0 draw against Portugal, and YN's two baguettes were visibly frustrated, discussing the game in rapid-fire French across the restaurant table.

"L'attaque était horrible!" (The attack was horrible!) Jules complained, stabbing at his salmon.

"On aurait dû gagner," (We should have won) Aurélien added, gesturing with his fork. "Ces putains d'arbitres..." (These fucking referees...)

They caught themselves, noticing YN quietly eating her steak.

"Sorry, belle," Aurélien switched to English. "How's your food?"

"Really good," she cut another piece of her medium-rare steak. "Though y'all are scary when you're mad."

"Not mad," Jules corrected. "Frustrated. Big difference."

"Speaking of differences," she started, "I'm heading to London tomorrow."

Aurélien took a sip of Coca-Cola. "To visit your man Lewis?"

Jules giggled - he'd made the same assumption earlier.

"He's just a friend," YN snapped. "And if he wasn't, I thought you didn't care anyway."

Aurélien glanced at Jules. "Son attitude? Elle est sérieuse?" (Her attitude? Is she serious?)

"Elle fait sa bratty," (She's being bratty) Jules replied as he spread his legs wider.

Their gazes cut to YN.

"My bad, belle," Aurélien said, making her smile. "You coming back?"

"To y'all - yes."

Aurélien's signature smirk appeared. "I like the sound of that."

They continued eating, YN appreciating the space across the table, though their long legs sandwiched hers underneath. When dessert came around, they split a chef sampler that included the best cheesecake YN ever had in her life - sorry mama!

As usual, the boys paid the bill and the walk back to her hotel was comfortable, both men flanking her sides as they strolled through Hamburg's evening streets. In the elevator, Jules pressed her floor while Aurélien's hand found its usual spot on her lower back.

They walked her to her door and YN reached up on her tip-toes to kiss Aurélien goodbye, but he gently pushed her back down.

"Aren't you gonna invite us in?" The hell?

"Yeah, we have to discuss something," Jules added.

YN glanced between them. "About? I have to pack, boys."

"We know and we'll even help." Aurélien said.

"Just five minutes," Jules promised.

"Max," added Aurélien.

YN muttered "okay" and let them in, Jules closing the door behind them.

"Your attitude's been trash lately," Aurélien started.

"What the hell?"

"If we're gonna be doing this, we shouldn't get snappy with each other. That only makes things worse. We know that seeing all the shit on the blogs is tough but there's a better way to voice your frustration," Jules said.

"Especially since it deals with all three of us," Aurélien added.

Uhn-uhn, not them giving you an intervention! her intrusive thoughts said.

Yeah, who do they think they are - you don't pay them to read you to filth like this, her rational thoughts agreed.

"Now hold on a second–"

"Let us finish, chérie," Jules held up a hand. "This is why you had that panic attack? The bullshit on the blogs?" Both sets of eyes bore into her until she nodded. "'Member what we said about using your words?"

I know this nigga is not...

"Yes - I had a panic attack because of that. Because of what may happen if they found out that I'm also hanging out with Aurélien."

The boys exchanged words in French. She really needed to get on her Zoom on Duolingo...

"Maybe you should hang out with one of us then? If you're scared of–" Jules started.

"No!" she surprised even herself. "We're not - I don't want to do that. I like Aurélien."

"Oh, belle," he said cockily, then sobered. "If it worries you though, it might be best. I don't want you to have another panic attack."

"We just have to be careful, okay?" she suggested. "Just be mindful of our surroundings. I don't want to stop hanging out with you, Aurélien. Really."

More French consultation, then Jules: "Okay, if you think that's best. We just be careful then."

"So maybe no more matches?" Aurélien said. Before YN could protest, he continued, "because they will keep trying to figure out who you're with, so no more matches and we hang out in each other's rooms. Sounds good?"

"Good," Jules said.

"Fine," YN replied defiantly, folding her arms.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "Your fucking attitude."

"I swear," Jules shook his head. "We may have to do something about it."

"We might," Aurélien agreed, their gazes turning hungry. YN gulped.

"Take a seat on the bed, chérie," Jules commanded. YN remained frozen. "What did I say?" The bass in his voice made her sit immediately on the edge.

"Take off your shoes then scoot up to the headboard," Aurélien said. Again she froze until his arched eyebrow basically said I know you heard me loud and clear.

She did as told, removing her mules and scooting back against the headboard. Jules and Aurélien toed off their sneakers, the soft thuds against the floor echoing in the room. She couldn't quite believe what was happening. The way they moved — their confidence, the unspoken understanding between them — made her breath catch in her throat.

Jules was the first to climb onto the bed, taking his place on her left. Aurélien followed, settling on her right. They were close enough that their warmth seeped into her skin, their combined presence intoxicating.

"You can back out at any time," Jules murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hand rested lightly on her knee. "We won’t push you to do anything you don’t want."

"Whatever you want," Aurélien added.

YN swallowed, trying to calm the swirl of emotions in her chest. She didn’t feel pressured — just overwhelmed in the best way possible. "Just kissing…for right now," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Because anything besides that, I think I might combust...

Both men nodded, their acceptance of her boundaries making her exhale in relief.

Jules leaned in first, tilting her chin gently with his fingers. His lips brushed against hers, warm and soft, the kiss starting slow. YN sighed into him, her hands hesitantly resting on his chest. Jules then deepened the kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek, coaxing small, breathy moans from her lips.

Aurélien’s hand slid up her thigh, staying over her clothes but sending sparks through her body. She broke the kiss with Jules, turning toward Aurélien, who was already leaning in. His kiss was firmer, more demanding, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck as he took control. YN moaned into his mouth, her body tingling as his thumb traced slow circles against her nape.

The feel of both their hands on her, their energy so different yet equally electrifying, had her melting. Jules pressed a kiss to the side of her neck while Aurélien nibbled gently on her lower lip, pulling away just enough to murmur against her mouth, "You know I should spank you for talking to me like that at the restaurant, don’t you?"

YN’s eyes widened. His tone was teasing, but the heat in his gaze said he meant every word.

Aurélien smirked as he kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. "But I’ll save that for another time," he added, his words a rumble against her lips.

That sounds like a promise, sir! her intrusive thoughts chimed in, but she pushed it aside.

Even though she had a really nice — and it was really nice — time with Enzo and Carina, doing two guys at once was too much for her at the moment, yet that didn't go without saying that she hadn't dreamt about it, dreamt about them.

For now, this was enough. This was perfect.

Jules' hands slipped up to cup her breasts over her blouse, his touch confident but not demanding. Aurélien followed suit, his large hand settling on her waist, his thumb brushing the edge of her rib cage.

YN let herself get lost in the sensations — their mouths on hers, their hands exploring. Her moans filled the space between kisses, soft gasps escaping as they found ways to make her tremble under their attention.

Aurélien broke the kiss, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You’re incredible, belle. Perfect."

Jules hummed his agreement, pressing a lingering kiss to her jawline. "Just say the word, and we’ll stop," he reminded her.

YN shook her head, her voice breathy as she replied, "Don’t stop. Not yet."

And with that, she gave herself over to the moment, letting their kisses and touches drown out every doubt. For now, she didn’t have to think about anything else — just the feeling of being cherished by both of them, right here and now.

The heat in the room thickened as their hands and lips explored, each movement a blend of curiosity and simmering passion. YN found herself caught between their bodies, Jules’ lips brushing against her neck while Aurélien captured her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless. Her hands, trembling with a mix of nervousness and desire, wandered over Jules’ toned chest. Her fingertips skimmed over his defined muscles before dipping lower, where she felt his erection straining against her touch.

Jules let out a low groan, his lips momentarily pausing on her neck. His eyes fluttered shut as her hand pressed more firmly. "Should I stop?" she asked, her hand stilling.

Jules shook his head, his voice rough with desire. "You’re good," he assured her. His words sent a thrill through her, and she bit her lower lip, the action catching Aurélien’s attention.

Aurélien pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching her face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm.

"No sex tonight," YN declared, her voice steady despite the warmth pooling in her stomach.

Both men nodded immediately, their agreement firm. "No sex," Aurélien echoed, his lips brushing her cheek.

"But…" she started, her voice trailing off. Jules raised a curious brow, silently encouraging her to continue. "I wouldn’t mind more kissing… and touching. If you’re okay with that."

Aurélien smirked, his hand cupping her face. "You should already know that I’m down," he teased, causing her and Jules to chuckle softly.

Jules grinned, his hand brushing lightly over her waist. "That’s fine. This is all about you, chérie."

"Exactly," Aurélien agreed, his warm gaze settling on her.

YN’s lips curved into a half-nervous, half-excited smile as she let their words sink in. "Good," she said, feeling a surge of boldness. Her eyes flicked between them before she clapped her hands playfully. "So… take off your pants. And those drawers."

Aurélien let out a laugh, his brow arching in mock indignation. "Damn, not you treating us like your little sluts," he joked, but he slid off the bed nonetheless. Jules followed, both of them making quick work of their clothing.

Aurélien unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. His shirt followed next, revealing his broad shoulders and toned chest, and then his boxers, leaving him gloriously bare. Jules mirrored his actions, peeling away his shirt, then his jeans and briefs in one fluid motion.

Both men stood before her, naked and unapologetically confident, their skin glistening under the dim lighting. The way their muscles flexed as they moved, the unapologetic confidence in their stances.

Bless you, Lord…

Bless Him indeed, praised her intrusive thoughts.

YN couldn’t stop her appreciative gaze from lingering. She exhaled deeply, her hands trembling slightly as she began to undress herself. First, her pants slid off, pooling around her ankles. Then came her halterneck top, revealing her bare shoulders and curves. Her panties were next, followed by the pasties she had carefully applied earlier. By the time she was finished, both men were back on the bed, flanking her sides as before.

"Okay, don’t make this awkward," she muttered, her cheeks warming at the vulnerable position she was in.

Aurélien chuckled, leaning in close to brush his lips against hers. "You’re the one making it awkward," he teased before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss.

"Very awkward," Jules added with a grin, his lips finding her neck again, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands moved on instinct, exploring them both — Aurélien’s firm chest and the ripple of Jules’ abs. Their touches grew bolder as well, Jules’ hands cupping her breast firmly while Aurélien’s lips wandered to her collarbone. YN’s head fell back against the headboard, a soft moan escaping her lips as their attention left her dizzy.

Jules gripped her jaw gently, tilting her face toward him so he could claim her lips. His kiss was deep, deliberate, his lips moving against hers with intoxicating intensity. Meanwhile, Aurélien scooted lower on the bed, his mouth latching onto her breast. The warmth of his tongue flicking over her nipple sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her, and she arched into his touch, her body responding instinctively to the sensations.

Jules’ free hand wandered downward, his fingers skimming the curve of her thigh before massaging the soft flesh with firm, slow circles. His touch was unhurried, as though he was savoring every second. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her thighs apart wider, creating more space for him to explore. His fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, his knuckles brushing against her clit in the faintest tease that made her gasp against his mouth.

"Can I touch you here?" Jules asked, his lips brushing against hers as his hand hovered at her center, waiting for her permission.

"Yes…" YN breathed, her voice trembling with need as her hips arched slightly, granting him better access. At the same moment, Aurélien’s mouth moved to her other breast, his teeth grazing her nipple before his tongue soothed the sting. The combined sensations left her head spinning, her body aflame with desire.

Jules’ fingers pressed against her folds, sliding through her wetness. He hissed softly, his reaction sending a thrill through her. "You’re so wet," he murmured, his lips barely moving from hers.

"How wet is she?" Aurélien asked, pulling back from her breasts, his voice rich with curiosity and amusement.

Jules didn’t hesitate, his hand moving briefly from her body. "Soaked," he replied, holding up his fingers, which glistened with her arousal. Without thinking, he brought them to her lips. YN didn’t need instruction — she opened her mouth, her tongue flicking over his fingers before she sucked them clean, her gaze locked with his.

"Putain," Jules muttered, his brown eyes darkened with lust as he stared at her. There was a raw hunger in his gaze, an intensity that made her shiver under his scrutiny. She moaned softly when his fingers slipped from her mouth, her body still tingling from the taste of herself on his skin.

"You sure this isn’t weird?" she managed to say, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Foot, meet mouth, yet again.

Aurélien chuckled lowly, his large hands sliding up to cup her waist. "Yes. Now be quiet and enjoy it," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The logical part of her brain — the one still vaguely aware of social norms — tried to remind her of the surreal nature of the situation, how the two of them had undoubtedly seen each other naked countless times before, not to mention this clearly wasn’t their rodeo. But that thought quickly dissolved when Jules silenced her with another kiss, this one gentler, almost reassuring, yet no less passionate.

Aurélien’s fingers joined the mix, his touch grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before moving to where Jules had left off. Jules’ hand slid downward again, his touch more assertive now, parting her folds with practiced ease. His fingers stroked her clit in small, deliberate circles while Aurélien’s fingers plunged into her slowly, stretching her.

The two worked in sync, their movements seamless and perfectly timed, as though they’d rehearsed this. Jules’ fingers teased her clit with increasing pressure while Aurélien’s plunged deeper, curling slightly to hit just the right spot that made her cry out, her hips rolling to meet their touch as the pleasure built to a near-overwhelming peak.

Aurélien’s lips found her neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice low and reverent. His fingers quickened their pace, his thumb brushing against her clit in time with Jules’ movements.

Jules watched her intently, his free hand tracing lazy patterns over her thigh while his other continued its rhythm. "This is all for you, chérie," he whispered, his voice laced with heat. "Just cum."

YN’s breaths came out in ragged pants, her body trembling as the sensations threatened to consume her. She was lost to the pleasure, her mind a haze of touch and desire and soft, murmured words. "I can’t…" she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

"You can," Aurélien assured her, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers hit that spot again. "And you will."

With a strangled cry, YN finally gave in, her body shuddering violently as waves of pleasure washed over her. Jules and Aurélien didn’t let up, their hands guiding her through the high until her body relaxed, boneless and sated between them. Both of them leaned down to kiss her softly — Aurélien on her cheek, Jules on her lips.

YN slowly came down from her orgasmic high, her body resettling after the aftershocks had dissipated. Letting out a sigh, she glanced down and spotted their erections – both of them still hard beyond measure, desperate for release.

"Should I suck–"

"No," Aurélien said whilst Jules simultaneously shook his head.

"I’m fine," added Jules. "We’re good."

Her eyes traveled back onto their penises. Don’t look fine to me… "You sure?"

"Positive," they said in unison.

"There’s always next time," said Aurélien as he slipped off the bed, grabbing his phone before making his way to the bathroom. "I’ll be back."

And with that, he closed the door behind him and YN was briefly consumed with her thoughts.

Kinda mean to have him rub one out when you have perfectly capable mouth and hands. Shameful, her intrusive thoughts chided.

No - you stood your ground on your boundaries. This is a win-win situation, countered her rational thoughts.

"If you keep staring at it, you’ll just make it harder," Jules’ voice pulled her out of her reverie and her gaze connected with his. As usual, Jules was cool and collected – relaxing comfortably in bed with his arms tucked behind his head.

"What?"

"My dick," he explained. "Keep staring at it like that and it’ll just get harder. Come ‘ere and cuddle."

Ooh, yes!

YN smiled brightly at his words and scooted beside him, snuggling deep into his side and hummed when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you doing okay?" he wondered after a few silent moments of her lying on his chest. "I know that this is a lot for you, but I want to make sure you’re good with…everything….Auré and I at the same time."

"I’m good, Jules."

"Seriously?"

YN lifted her head up from his chest to stare at him. "Yeah…just getting used to it. The possibility of–"

"Fucking us both?"

Even though that was exactly what she thinking, it still made her cheeks warm upon hearing it aloud. This time that they’ve spent together was nice and it did make her curious about how she could handle being so…full. Unlike her disastrous – and perhaps questionable – porn choices, no one has had the pleasure of being inside her other hole. Not like there hasn’t been any instances on trying; it just never panned out correctly. Perhaps she wasn’t doing it the right way (as if one needed extra instruction on anal sex) or maybe it wasn’t with the right partner (which seemed like the case). Either way, she never given it much thought besides now, that is.

"How did you guys do it before? With that girl from Bordeaux?"she wondered and Jules’ eyebrows furrowed. "I just want to know the positions–"

"We Eiffel Tower’d her." Direct. To the point. No hesitation.

YN tried to suppress a giggle at the double entendre, but failed miserably and a small chortle managed to escape. "Two French guys Eiffel Towering a girl?"

Jules dawned onto the gist of what she was saying and he even let out a chuckle himself. "I know, the joke writes itself." Then, he cleared his throat and exhaled a breath. "I mean….shit…we were so young. No anal sex though, just her mouth and pussy. We can just do that if it makes you more comfortable."

Interesting. "Have you tried it before?"

"Once," he said, the edges of his mouth curving upwards into a mischievous grin as he reminisced. "Not a personal fave, but lots of lube can help with that."

Then, they heard the toilet flush followed by the sounds of running water. Seconds later, Aurélien made his way out of the bathroom and sauntered over to the bed, sliding back onto his side as if he never left.

"You good, bébé?" Her overly caring — lover? situationship? — asked as one of his hands trailed down her spine.

"Yes," YN said, doing her darnedest to not moan as he caressed her soft skin, yet she did allow a shiver to go down her body upon feeling his slightly damp fingers.

"YN's curious about anal sex," said Jules, and she shot him a warning look, which caused him to laugh.

"You’re a freaky girl," was all Aurélien said as his hand continued its route downwards, moving from her back to the top of her ass. "I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet."

"How do you know if I’m ready for all of that?" she retorted, accusingly, turning over to the other side to give him her full attention.

Instead of answering verbally, Aurélien’s hand skimmed lightly over her ass cheeks and then gently coaxed them apart until he came in contact with her virgin anus. She flinched at the feeling, and Aurélien scoffed.

"You’re not ready for all of that," he repeated then moved his hand to her lower back. YN rolled her eyes despite herself and a grin appeared on his annoyingly handsome face.

"Anyways," she started, turning around once more to Jules. "what time is it? I should get some things packed."

Jules removed one hand from behind his head to grab his phone from the other bedside table, tapping the screen to check the time. "Almost midnight."

Shit. She had six hours before she had to be up and ready to head to the airport.

With a groan, YN carefully slipped out of bed, scooting all the way down to the bottom edge and then walking over to the closet to take out her carry-on. Meanwhile, the boys didn’t move an inch – just lounged there like the sexy predators they embodied, naked as the day they were born.

"I’m surprised that you guys didn’t put on clothes or boxers…something," she muttered as she began to rifle through the closet for clothes to wear in England.

"We saw each other naked too many times to count," Aurélien said as he picked up his phone to scroll mindlessly through it. "Why? Should we put on some clothes?"

"I think she might be kicking us out," proclaimed Jules as he watched her pack then unpack her clothing selection from his side of the bed. "Pack a jacket, chérie. It’s supposed to be fourteen degrees Celsius in London tomorrow."

Celsius? What? "Huh?" That definitely made her halt her movements.

"Ah, you gotta say it in American, JK," explained Aurélien with an amused chuckle.

Jules muttered a curse under his breath. "Fifty-seven degrees your temperature."

Then why don’t they just say that? "Oh, thanks." YN scanned her closet for that jean jacket her mama packed, found it, and then place it inside the carry-on – along with another coord set, a maxi dress, two linen shirts, a pair of jeans, her mules, and some underwear. Doing the most for two days, of course. Always. But she needed options. "And for the record, I’m not kicking y’all out. Just…noticing."

"Noticing bad or noticing good?" This came from Aurélien, who finally shifted his gaze away from whatever he was watching on his phone to her.

YN shrugged nonchalantly. "Just noticing." Both of them let out a barely audible utterance. Hmm… "Sleepover?"

"Always."

"Of course."

Satisfied with both her clothing choices and their answers, YN decided to leave packing her skincare and makeup until tomorrow morning then grabbed her bonnet from the dresser and place it over her head before padding inside the bathroom to do her nightly routine.

She cleaned her face quickly, removing her makeup and then brushing her teeth. YN pulled on an oversized t-shirt and panties after she left the bathroom, climbing back into bed and in her designated spot in the middle.

They popped on her like grease out of a pan – arms wrapping around her (they definitely rehearsed that move), lips on either side of her neck, phones forgotten. The urban nightlife filtered through the windows, its sounds and lights scattered across the room to create the perfect ambiance as YN basked in being sandwiched between the two of them, enjoying the way both of their bodies molded next to hers, their scent wafting through her nostrils.

I could get used to this.

"Night, boys."

"Night, chérie." A little grumble from Jules, cuddling close.

"Bonne nuit, bébé." A low, yet deep murmur from Aurélien.

Her boys. YN flashed a wide grin in the dark, feeling cozy and relaxed. With the warmth surrounding her, she let sleep take over, happily drifting into dreamland.

______________________________________________

The alarm blaring jolted YN awake. She found herself sandwiched between Jules and Aurélien, both still deep in sleep.

"Turn it off," Aurélien groaned.

"Working on it," she sassed back, looking around the room. "If I could find it…"

Her phone had somehow ended up in her purse near the armchair. Among her notifications:

LewLew Bean: Text when you land tomorrow x. Roscoe's excited to see you!

BallerAlert: YN_YLN's ex-boyfriend spotted with Victoria's Secret model at LA hotspot

She chuckled at how they didn't even use Damari's name anymore.

"Where you going?" Aurélien's hand caught her wrist as she headed to the bathroom.

"Getting ready for my flight or did you forget?"

He kissed his teeth, muttering something before rolling over. Jules continued snoring, pillow still covering his head.

They're annoying, she thought, watching them sleep, but damn if they aren't cute. After last night, everything felt… different. Maybe juggling two French best friends wasn't as complicated as she'd thought.

After showering and packing her toiletries, she pulled on her airport fit - half-zip pullover, cropped tee, wide-leg sweats. She was lacing up her Nikes when they finally stirred.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauties."

"Morning."

"Mmmhmm."

"We can order breakfast before I go."

"Boo," Aurélien pouted.

Jules giggled, licking his lips. "Sounds like a plan."

While Aurélien used one of the hotel toothbrushes, Jules beckoned YN over with a crooked finger. Like a good girl, she sashayed to his side of the bed, letting him guide her down until they were eye-level.

His lips met hers softly - the kind of kiss that said don't forget us. All gentle pressure and sweet promise.

"Be safe over there," he murmured, fingers trailing from her shoulders to her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. "I don't know if I like your hair better up or down." He studied her low-maintenance bun.

"I prefer it down," Aurélien said as he returned to his side of the bed.

"Yeah, might be my favorite too," Jules agreed before heading to brush his teeth.

They shared breakfast - eggs, pastries, fruit - stealing bites from each other's plates like they'd done this a hundred times.

After getting dressed, they followed her as she got on the elevator, their hands filled with her bags. Both men hugged her goodbye in the lobby - Jules kissed her forehead while Aurélien squeezed her waist.

"See you Sunday," she promised.

"See you, cherie." Jules' response was sweet as usual, his eyes filled with longing.

"Don't have too much fun with Lewis," Aurélien said with a wink - ever the jokester but YN could tell that he was going to miss her too.

She gathered her carry-on and tote, handing them off to the driver before slipping inside the back seat, watching them wave as her Uber then pulled away.

Different, she thought again. But good different.

______________________________________________

"You really didn't have to pick me up," YN said as Lewis loaded her carry-on into his Mercedes SUV.

"Please, what kind of host would I be?"

A fine as hell one, her intrusive thoughts noted, appreciating how his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. But for once, the attraction stayed purely aesthetic - like admiring art in a museum. No urge to touch, just respect for the craftsmanship.

A happy bark interrupted her thoughts. Roscoe's wrinkled face appeared between the front seats, tongue lolling out.

"Oh my god, he's even cuter in person!" She reached back to scratch behind his ears. The bulldog immediately flopped into her touch, making Lewis laugh.

"He's usually shy with new people." Lewis glanced over as he pulled onto the motorway. "You must be special."

"Nah, animals just know good people. Right, Roscoe?"

Another enthusiastic bark.

"So," Lewis's gap-toothed smile flashed, "tell me about these French boys of yours."

YN groaned, but found herself smiling. There was something comfortable about Lewis - like talking to a friend who'd seen it all and judged none of it.

"Well," she settled in for the drive, Roscoe's head now resting on her arm. "Last night was... interesting."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say there was some three-way kissing involved..."

"Holy shit!" Lewis nearly swerved. "You really out here living your best life!"

"The French are wild though."

"And you're just now figuring this out?"

Frank Ocean's "Pink + White" played softly as they drove through London's posh neighborhoods. Finally, they pulled up to a stunning Georgian house, complete with climbing vines and white gravel drive.

"This is so British," YN marveled, following Roscoe up the path.

The door opened to reveal a petite white woman with cropped hair. "This must be YN!"

"This is my mum, Carmen," Lewis said casually, slipping inside with her bags in tow.

First I'm staying here, now I'm meeting his mother? Does she think we're—

GURRRRLLLL! her intrusive thoughts screeched.

"Hi Miss Carmen," YN opened her arms for a hug, breathing in cookies and peonies - the most British smell ever.

"Come in! How was your flight?" Carmen ushered her inside. The house was gorgeous - checkerboard foyer tiles, winding staircase, wainscoting, and family photos everywhere. The kitchen was all navy cabinets, marble counters, and brass fixtures. "I've made some lunch. Would you like fish and chips?"

"I love fish and chips!" YN burst out enthusiastically, making Carmen's eyebrows shoot up. "Sorry, I tend to get—"

"Don't apologize. I love the enthusiasm. It's cod, okay?"

"Sounds good." Carmen plated the food and set it before YN. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, you're so polite. And pretty."

Lewis finally appeared, leaning against the counter. "I'll show you your bedroom in a second. How is it?"

"She didn't try it yet, love." Carmen urged YN to take a bite. The fish was perfectly seasoned. Carmen beamed at her reaction. "It's my famous seasoning blend. Bit different than what you'd expect from a pub, but it's good right?"

"So good," YN agreed, trying the fries. Then YN's foot-in-mouth disease struck: "So… who do you think I am to Lewis?"

"I know you two are good friends," Carmen smiled. "Besides, this one is making me wait to become a grandmother unfortunately."

"You have Roscoe, Mum," Lewis said with a small smile playing on his lips.

"A human grandchild would be nice."

"You have those too. Four of them to be exact," Lewis pointed out.

"I want more!"

"And you will. When I retire."

"In three years!" Carmen harrumphed.

YN shrugged, taking another fry. "I mean, you are forty with no kids. Seems sus."

Lewis's jaw dropped while Carmen cheered. "Thank you!"

"He needs a nice woman to date. None of those model types. We've been there, done that too many times over," his mother continued.

"Maybe a businesswoman?" YN suggested.

"Ooh yes! Do you know any single women, preferably ages thirty-two to thirty-seven?"

"Okay, mum, that's enough. YN's not here to play matchmaker."

"I do, actually," YN said, making them both exclaim: "Really?!"

"I mean, she's divorced and has two kids - six-year-old twins but they're so cute and well-behaved."

"I don't know about becoming a stepdad," Lewis said apprehensively. "I don't want to overstep."

"Lewis, love, you're so great with kids!" Carmen insisted.

I think she's just willing to take on anyone at this moment.

"What she look like?" Lewis asked.

"Oh? You're taking it seriously?"

He shrugged. "Just curious, is all."

"Mmhmm," YN took out her phone, opened Instagram, and typed in 'Sabine Wurley', her label's A&R exec - a gorgeous Trini-Canadian with toffee skin, doe eyes, and all the Caribbean curves to match.

"Holy shit she's gorgeous," Carmen gasped.

"She's nice looking," Lewis said flatly. YN stared at him like he had three heads. "Give me her number."

"If I'm going to throw the alley-oop, don't fuck up her heart. I love Sab a lot."

"I won't."

"Promise me," YN pressed. "I'm deadass."

"Fine, fine, I promise. Dang."

YN forwarded the contact with a smirk. Sabine and Lewis? She could work with that.

🌹🇫🇷 Group Chat:

Aurélien 🌹 Miss you already 😘 These hotel beds are too big without you

Jules 🇫🇷 Speak for yourself. I'm spread out like a starfish

YN Y'all are so dramatic 🙄

Aurélien 🌹 Says the one who needed us both to sleep last night

Jules 🇫🇷 Exactly. Training bout to start. Talk soon.

YN Have fun! Be careful...

Jules 🇫🇷 You worried about us? Cute.

Aurélien 🌹 Very cute. Tell Lewis we said hi but not too enthusiastically 😏

YN smiled at her phone, scrolling through the group chat with her French baguettes. Twenty-four hours felt longer than it should.

Girl, you're down BAD, her intrusive thoughts teased as she pocketed her phone, letting Roscoe lead her around Silverstone's paddock. The bulldog stopped to sniff literally everything before finally choosing the perfect patch of grass.

"Is that YN?"

"Who's she?"

"The singer!"

"Why does she have Roscoe?"

The paddock photographers weren't confused at all - their cameras clicked away while she tried to wrangle an overexcited bulldog who'd spotted another driver's water bottle.

"Roscoe, no — that's not yours!" She tugged gently at his leash.

Too busy texting Jules back ("Show them what that ass do 😏"), she crashed right into someone in an orange racing suit - McLaren? "Oh shit, sorry!"

"No worries!" Blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I'm Lando."

She introduced herself politely, taking in his cute boyish features. Her horn-o-meter, usually quick to jump for any attractive man with an accent, stayed firmly at 0. Maybe she was catching feelings for her French boys if this British cutie wasn't doing it for her.

Or maybe, her intrusive thoughts suggested, you just have a type now: tall, dark, and speaks French.

Back at the Mercedes garage, Lewis scooped her into a hug. "Thanks for dog duty."

Rosa, his comms personnel, led Roscoe to his bed in the corner while Lewis started suiting up for qualifying.

"Good energy today," he said, zipping up his race suit. "I can feel it."

"You sound just like my mama with all this energy talk."

"Your mama knows what's up then."

YN rolled her eyes, checking her phone again.

"Missing the French boys already?"

"Mind your business!"

"Not very hot girl summer of you," he teased, pulling on his gloves. "Thought you weren't catching feelings?"

"I'm not!" But even she heard the uncertainty in her voice. A little 'missing you' doesn't mean anything, right?

Whatever you say, both her intrusive and rational thoughts weren't too convinced.

"Mhmm. Sure." He grinned. "Keep telling yourself that while you check your phone every two minutes."

"Shouldn't you be focusing on qualifying?"

"I am. And you're focusing on your messages from Jules and Aurélien."

She watched him qualify - still clueless about what was happening but proud of his P4 position based on everyone's reactions. But even as the garage celebrated, her mind wandered to Hamburg, wondering if her French boys were doing well at practice.

After qualifying, YN and Lewis walked arm in arm through the paddock, Roscoe trotting beside them. She pretended not to notice the cameras clicking or hear the whispers.

"They'd really lose it if they knew about your French situation," Lewis murmured.

"Don't you dare—"

"I would never. But it's funny watching them try to figure out who you're with."

Back at his place, they ordered Indian takeout and sprawled on his massive couch, Roscoe snoring between them.

"You're leaving early tomorrow?"

"Miss my boys," she admitted, shoving another piece of naan in her mouth.

"Oh, really?" he teased, but his smile was kind. "Though I once drove six hours just to see this model for like... two hours max."

"Lewis Hamilton, you dog!"

"I heard women do crazy things when they're dickmatized."

"I am NOT dickmatized!" She threw a pillow at him. "I just... miss them."

"Mhmm." His knowing look said everything. "It's cool though. Young, free, exploring. Just be careful with those feelings."

"I know." She got up to hug him, ready to head to her room to tuck in for the night. "Good luck tomorrow. Show these young boys how it's done."

"Always do." But she could tell he was a bit sad she'd miss the race. "Text me when you land?"

"Of course. And thanks for... everything."

"Anytime, Lil' Bit."

She pretended not to notice how soft his smile was. Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, was a whole teddy bear underneath all that swagger.

_______________________________________________

The next morning, scrolling through her phone in the airport lounge, she saw:

PopCultureDaily: YN's European Tour continues! From Monaco clubs to Silverstone with Lewis Hamilton - sis is LIVING 🔥 [Photos: YN dancing in Monaco, walking with Lewis at Silverstone]

view all comments.... celebtea: Hot Girl Summer: Achievement Unlocked ↳ ynglobal: First French footballers now F1? We stan a versatile queen ↳ tsrfans: Better than that NFL bench warmer mayegurl: Still waiting for tea about those TWO French players 👀 ↳ maggiegerty: Wait what? TWO?? sportsgossip: Lewis Hamilton and YN dating? ↳ f1insider: They're just friends y'all ↳ fanpage: The way he looks at her though!

"Now boarding flight 2847 to Hamburg…"

She made he way to board her plane and settled into her aisle seat, already thinking about seeing Jules and Aurélien, when a deep voice interrupted:

"Excuse me, that's my window seat."

YN looked up - and up - into warm brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. The stranger was gorgeous in that intellectual way - tall and lean but solid, perfect fade, skin like dark honey, full lips curled in a gentle smile. His navy Tom Ford suit and Cartier watch screamed tenured professor with family money.

Her horn-o-meter jumped to 9.

Another one for the roster? her intrusive thoughts suggested.

Finally, not an athlete, her rational side approved.

"Javaughn Taylor," he introduced himself as he settled in, his Northeast accent surprising her. "Heading to Hamburg for work."

"YN," she replied. "What kind of work?"

"A conference. Economics at Hamburg University. I teach at Columbia."

They talked the whole flight - about music (he played jazz piano), books (they both loved Octavia Butler), travel (he'd just been to Cape Town). His laugh was rich, his intelligence obvious but not showy. He really reminded her of that hot professor everyone had a crush on in college but never dared to approach.

When they landed, she had his number and a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with turbulence.

The universe really testing my French situation, she thought, watching him stride away in those perfectly tailored trousers.

TO BE CONTINUED......