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azsazz · 11 months ago

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Change Your Ticket (Part 6)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,300

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Notes: I rlly need to stop overthinking this...so I'm just going to post it.

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Cassian don’t know why he’s running myself into the ground. It’s been a great morning, and although you’d had to leave for work, he’d enjoyed getting the little time seeing those pretty eyes, how your cheeks had pinkened with his taunts.

He almost had you climbing right back into bed with him.

He had loved the way you moaned and groaned about work, how you tried to hide away from him by running into the bathroom. How you tried to block him out by starting the shower, trying to mask how wet you were for him by drenching yourself under the hot spray.

Cassian bets it didn’t work.

His cock stirs at the thought of finishing he’d started, lingering in the space between the both of you like a thread winding tighter and tighter. And he thought it might snap when you’d come out all ready for work, eyes a little bit dazed as they avoided his lounging body on your bed. Cassian had all of the time in the world to tease you.

It was something after your sheepish goodbye, still reveling in the fact that he’d been so close to breaking through your routine. And if your boss dared fire you for spending a little time with him, well, Cassian isn’t too sure he’d be all that mad.

He wouldn’t mind taking care of you. In fact, it’s what he desires. And it’s not some manly expectation for you not to work, if that’s what you truly want, then so be it, he will be your best cheerleader. But he always aches when he’s away from you. He wants you by his side because he’s never had that, never had the rush that someone who actually cares for his wellbeing watches him play the game he loves, will caress him and speak encouragement, no matter if he wins or loses.

He doesn’t have a mother to call when things go sour, a father to seek advice from, nor siblings to playfully banter with. Sure, he’s had the children who’d he seen grow in the system with him, but oftentimes he’d be separated by a foster home that would only last a handful of months before they sent him away again, no matter how much he tried to stay. He’d help in the kitchen, with chores, jumping at the chance without even being asked because if someone were cleaning or cooking, maybe they’d keep him around a little bit longer.

His attempts were futile, at best.

“Bring it in, gents,” Coach calls and Cassian jogs over with the rest of his team. He snags a water bottle with thanks from the young boy handing them out, spraying a large gulp into his parched mouth before tilting the bottle back and wetting his already damp hair.

“Thanks, kid,” he grins, and the little boys’ cheeks turn red.

Cassian joins the rest of the team, forming a semi-circle around the coach. He finds his place between Azriel and Rhysand, the captain of the team. They are his best mates, brothers in every sense of the word, except literally. They’ve all played for the Velaris Stars for two seasons now, and are almost inseparable, both on and off the field.

“Great practice, eh?” he asks, getting down on one knee like the rest of the players as they await Coach Devlin’s words of wisdom. Something the coach has been trying to instill in his team for a while now, according to Azriel, who’s been with the Stars the longest. There isn’t a practice nor game that goes by without a morale boosting chat from Coach.

Azriel cuts him a glare from the side of his eye, and Cassian winces. His teammate hadn’t gotten to practice with them, ankle still not quite healed after the last match. That was poor wording on Cassian’s part.

Rhys brushes his damp hair from his eyes, toweling the sweat from his face as he responds. “Eh, still could work on some more scrums, but we’re in pretty good shape for Saturday’s game.”

“Oi, Third Degree,” Devlin’s snaps, startling the three of them. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys have become known to the team and the fans as Third Degree because the group of them dominate on the field. It had a nice ring to it, if he does say so himself. Devlin stands with hands on his hips, lips curled around his whistle as if he was about to blow it to gain their attention. “We interrupting your little chit-chat?”

“No, sir,” the three answer in unison, and Cassian notes the difficulty his coach has to not roll his eyes. He bites back a smirk, giving him his attention.

“As I was saying,” Devlin continues with a pointed look in their direction. It slides off Azriel’s shoulders but Rhysand has the gall to look innocently at their coach, as if he’s nothing but the angel captain Devlin thought he was when he’d been chosen for such a position. Cassian snickers and Rhys elbows him. “We’re playing the Autumn Rangers this weekend. Now, since it’s a home game, I expect all of you on your best behavior. You will welcome them to Velaris with sportsmanlike conduct and will not be brawling outside of this stadium,” he says, eyeing Azriel, who had gotten into a fistfight with Lucien Vanserra in the hotel lobby last season.

Cassian never did hear about what had happened, though he did wonder if it had anything to do with Lucein’s older brother, Eris, who is the Stars’ athletic trainer. The younger Vanserra was estranged from his large family, all connected to the sport in some way, shape, or form. Something about a distasteful relationship in the public eye his family was not proud of. In the end, Lucien had lost her heart anyway. Cassian feels a twinge of pity for the youngster, only in his second year in the sport. He has no one, either.

“He better not let me catch him off of this grass, then,” Azriel mutters, arms crossed over his chest. He won’t be playing in the game this weekend because of his ankle, and Cassian knows how hard he’s taking the news. While they were practicing, he’d been on the sidelines with Eris, working on stretching and testing the muscles of his rolled ankle. The red-headed trainer told Devlin he was going to have to sit out for another game, much to Azriel’s utter annoyance.

“He’d probably go straight for that fragile ankle of yours,” Rhys answers quietly, violet gaze still on their coach.

Azriel kicks him with his good foot and Rhys winces, biting back a grin.

Coach Devlin’s speech wraps up with some words of wisdom. The same one’s Cassian hears after every practice, before every game, and even in his nightmares. “Stars help the moon light up the universe. That’s the power of teamwork. Now get off my field and get into the showers, you all stink.”

“To this day, I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean,” Cassian mutters to his friends, nodding at Balthazar as they make their way towards the locker rooms. He catches Eris eyeing Azriel, a pair of crutches in his hands, but the latter doesn’t seem to notice, or is avoiding eye contact with the trainer as he limps from the field. “You good, man?”

“Peachy,” Azriel grunts, the fringe of his hair falling into his eyes. He’s trying his best not to limp, but there’s a twist of pain in his ankle and he hisses uncomfortably. He’d rather it gives out than use those fucking crutches Eris is lugging around for him. He can fuck right off with those. “It’s just another bullshit waying of saying ‘team work makes the dream work,’ Cass.”

Cassian considers his coaches words. He thought they’d played as an impeccable team during the last match that they had, but they’d still lost anyway. He’s not going to think it’s because his own shooting star wasn’t there in the city, watching him play.

“Maybe he needs to work on it a little,” Cass answers, “Shit’s confusing.”

“More confusing than the Rangers chant? ‘Allez les rouges?’ What does that even mean?”

“It means ‘Go Reds,’” Azriel answers, and Cassian didn’t know he knew French. Maybe he should pester him until he can teach him something worth saying to you to make you swoon. Then, he thinks that Azriel would teach him to say something naughty instead, and Cassian changes his mind.

He tugs the hemline of his shirt up and it sticks to his skin. It’s tight so that other players can’t easily grab it, but it often gets stuck over his broad shoulders. With a breath of frustration, the constricting fabric finally gives way, and Cassian rolls his shoulders, tossing it onto the bench in front of his locker before he digs around for his phone.

He can hear it buzzing against the wood and his brows furrow. Most of the people he knows are from the team, you, and a few others in the league. There’s his media manager, who he has weekly meetings with, and very sparse social media notifications on.

There’s a giddy stir in his stomach, hoping it might be you. He needs to shower, set up a grocery delivery, and head to his house to begin preparations for the extravagant dinner he’s planning on making you.

Cassian’s smile morphs into a frown upon seeing his lock screen. It’s not a call from you, but notifications cover his screen, from his manager, telling him to call him immediately, to a few friends he has outside of his team, texting him about something that’s happening on Twitter.

He unlocks the phone, heart kicking up in speed. If he’s being mentioned and called out for something in the media, it’s usually not a good thing. He wracks his brain as his fingers move on their own accord, motions robotic as they click the blue icon.

The first thing he sees when the screen refreshes is a photo of you, and his world stills.

The noise in the locker room turns to static in his ears. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest, adrenaline rushing through his veins, that he thinks he may drop the phone to the ground. His vision tunnels in on the photo of you from this morning, wearing his black t-shirt stuffed into your trousers. You’re pulling your hair into a clip, your work bag slung over your shoulder. You look good, of course you do, it’s exactly how he remembered you when you’d left him this morning. But what is going on?

The caption above the photo reads:

Cassian Bailey’s Love Try: Secret Girlfriend Revealed!

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

Cassian’s hands shake as he scrolls. Post upon post of you headed to work fill his screen like a tidal wave of coverage. Most are the same photo, and he doesn’t dare look at any of the comments or reposts. There’s a grainy one of you at what must be your work, eyes round and tinged with fear as you stand in the lobby of the building.

He exits the app, pulling up your number instead. He shoves his phone between his shoulder and ear, digging around frantically for his clothes, wallet, and keys. He needs to get out of here, needs to find you, because your phone is going straight to voicemail no matter how many times he calls.

“Fuck,” he mutters, swinging around only to run face-to-face with Azriel and Rhysand.

“Cass?” Rhys asks, reaching his hands out as if not to scare him away. He can barely even focus on them right now, mind reeling with thoughts of if you’re safe, how you’re taking all of this, if you’re over. “You alright?”

“Is it true?” Azriel adds, hazel eyes a touch softer now.

He looks frantically between his friends. His mouth can no longer form words but all he knows is that he needs to get out of here right the fuck now.

Cassian can only nod. It’s more of a jerk of his head, and then he’s shoving his way between them and beelining for the door. It’s all he can do to pray that there isn’t media waiting to follow him, because he’s going straight to your home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“(Y/N), it’s definitely not the paparazzi.”

You place your freshly refilled glass on the table and shove to your feet. The blanket falls from your lap onto a heap on the floor, but you couldn’t care less as you make your way to the front door, Mor on your heels.

You freeze when you round the corner, meeting a worried hazel gaze that makes your aching heart crack. His eyes are red-rimmed, brows pulled tight with worry. Cassina’s hair is a mess, from both practice and running his fingers through where it was pulled back in a sloppy bun for practice.

He pushes gently past Feyre, but he’s still a wall of a man and she jumps out of his way.

It seems like time slows when he reaches you. Your vision vignettes so it’s only Cassian, standing before you like a child scared of the monster under their bed. He reaches out but thinks better of it, worried you don’t want him to touch you at all.

Your name is a whisper across his lips, and it makes you break, falling into his strong arms.

��I can fix this, I swear.” His voice is raw, cracking with his words. You hug him closer. His heart is running rampant in his chest, so you stroke soothing but shaky circles into his back. A touch of relief floods you, knowing that Cassian is as worried about all of this as you are. People know your name, your face, and they’ll be digging into your past, predicting your future, forever, now.

“Cass,” you offer gently, pulling away slightly to look up at him. He doesn’t want to give an inch, hands clamped like iron around your waist. “I don’t want to break up.”

“You don’t?” he asks, like he can’t quite believe it. His frantic gaze searches yours, and you let him see the truth in yours. His shoulders relax only slightly after he finds your words sincere, moving one large hand to your cheek to caress your face.

“No.”

You watch him swallow and force out the question he doesn’t want to ask. “Not even now that everyone knows you’re mine?”

No, you don’t want to be in the media, don’t want anyone to know who you are or try to get close to you only because of Cassian. The thought of people with ill intentions coming after you makes you sick, but you don’t want to stop this relationship with Cassian.

“I have no idea how I’m going to come back from this one, but no, I don’t want to leave you.”

Cassian releases a shaky exhale and because he can’t help himself, he dips down and kisses the hell out of you. You breathe him in, salty with sweat and part your lips, allowing his tongue to dip into your mouth, brushing softly against your own. It feels like an apology but he doesn’t need to give you one, it isn’t his fault you left the house this morning in a t-shirt you’d assumed no one would connect to the rugby player.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, lips brushing your own. He’s still holding you close, and the cocoon of his arms keeps you steady. None of the outside world matters right now, not when he’s holding you like this. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this. I promise.”

You nod, an unsure feeling stirring your gut. You don’t know how he might begin to even attempt fixing something like this, but you trust Cassian, and there will be time to talk privately when your friends aren’t staring at you while your boyfriend kisses the daylights out of you.

Speaking of, Mor has the biggest grin on her face and Feyre’s eyes are wide, glass of wine halted halfway to her lips. At least she’s shut the door.

“Hey, Mor,” Cassian nods, and you stare up at him incredulously.

“Hey, Cass.”

Wait a minute.

“You two know each other?” you ask, just as shocked as Feyre, who’s jaw hangs low.

“My uncle owns the team,” Mor shrugs, and now your jaw is touching the ground. “I know all of the players.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Feyre exclaims, elbowing Mor in the side. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes as she snatches her friend’s glass from her hand to take a sip.

This is certainly news to you. You can’t believe all this time Mor and Cassian have known each other. When you were in the bar last week for the game and your friends had attended, Mor didn’t act like she even knew what rugby was.

“Because I didn’t think you were that into rugby,” she tuts, saying exactly what you’re thinking. She sends a pointed look your way, “And I didn’t know you were dating Cassian Bailey!”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. You do feel bad for not telling your best friends, but you haven’t told anyone, not even your family.

Oh no, your family. Have they seen the social media storm that you’re now in the eye of? Have they been trying to contact you to ask their own questions or see if you’re okay?

You try to dislodge yourself from Cassian but he refuses to let you go, turning to you with a frown.

“Why are you wearing a Sealion’s hat?” His question serious, and there’s a slight scrunch to his nose, letting you in on his distaste. Fuck, you forgot about the hat.

You laugh, but it comes out thickly. “It’s Tarquin’s. He let me borrow it after the paps showed up to my work.”

“Should I be worried about this Tarquin?” Cassian asks, genuine concern on his face. So much so that your wet chuckle turns a touch more real.

“He’s more into you than me, so I’m wondering if I’m the one who should actually be worried,” you tease, hugging him tighter before pulling away. Cassian pouts, but you pat him on his chest. “You stink.”

“I thought you liked when I’m all musky and sweaty,” Cassian responds with a touch of suggestiveness. So much for figuring out what to do about your face in the public tonight.

And it’s fine, for now. You’d much rather spend your evening allowing Cassian to comfort you, and you him. You can still see the weariness in his gaze, how he may not want to talk about this in front of an audience. He cares for your opinion and your opinion only.

“Okay, ew,” Feyre says, sliding from her spot at the counter and reaching for her shoes. “I’m Feyre, by the way, and we’re totally leaving, right Mor?” she asks over her shoulder to a smirking Mor.

“No, wait, you guys don’t have to—”

“Yes, we do. We do not want to be around while the two of you make-up,” Mor agrees with Feyre, slipping into her own shoes. Expensive trainers that she must’ve slipped into quickly when she’d found out the news. She snatches her purse off of the counter, key ring jingling with keychains and keys. “Call us when your phone stops blowing up. See you later, Cass.”

“I think your captain is really hot by the way,” Feyre yells as Mor shoves her through the door with a laugh.

You sigh, turning back to your boyfriend who’s grinning down at you like a creep.

“What?”

“I like your friends,” he says earnestly, pulling you back into his body by your hips. “Now, how about some dinner?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash @kennedy-brooke @tothestarsandwhateverend @azsteris @obsessivereaderchick @aalxrose @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover @bookishbroadwaybish @itsinherited @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @vellichor01 @mischiefmanagers @queerqueenlynn @justdreamstars @mayemperess @wallacewillow0773638 @microwaveallthedemons

#cassian x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cassian #modern!cassian #rugby!cassian au #rugby!cassian #acotar au #change your ticket

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 4 months ago

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Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 6)

Summary: You go out on your first girls night since moving to Boston, but instead of a fun night out, you end up with the cast of Mean Girls

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Fluff! Angst! Talk of Nepotism! Slut-Shaming! Alcohol Consumption!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 6

You sighed as you assessed your outfit in the mirror. This was the first time you were going out drinking in a very long time. Even back in LA, you didn’t go out often even though you loved dancing, your friend Tommi preferred chatty drinks so you often went out for a meal instead. So it had been a little while since you had gotten dressed up like you were now and it wasn’t filling you with the confidence it normally did.

You’d picked a sparkly black mini-dress which looked like the night sky. The last time you wore it you felt like a boss, like someone out of a fantasy novel that was a queen or high lady and commanded an entire court. Now it just felt off, you couldn’t stop fiddling with the hem and adjusting it. It felt like it was wearing you instead of you wearing it.

You nibbled your lip trying to determine whether you should change, not that you knew what you’d change into. You needed a second opinion, someone to reassure you that it was fine and not as bad as you thought it was.

You grabbed your phone, took a quick mirror selfie and sent it to Tommi, asking what she thought. You could have just face-timed her but you didn’t want her to do her empath superpower and pick up on how uncomfortable you felt causing a mini therapy session that you didn’t want right now.

Tommi: Looking hot! You’ll be pulling all the guys tonight!

You rolled your eyes knowing she meant you could pull someone other than Chris. You had told her about your agreement and how Chris definitely wasn’t like Bryce but she still wasn’t convinced.

Y/N: I’m not looking to pull anyone tonight, just a girl's night with some of the office staff

Tommi: well have fun anyway and stay safe, share your location and text me when you’re heading home

Y/N: will do, love ya wish you were here

Tommi: love you too, wish you were here

You smiled softly to yourself as you put your phone away and looked back in the mirror. You still didn’t feel like a boss bitch, but you felt better and more confident. You could fake it until you make it until then, plus you were already running a little late.

You grabbed your bag and did last looks in the mirror before making your way out of your apartment to go meet the rest of the girls. The bar you were meeting at wasn’t that far from your apartment, only about a twenty to thirty-minute walk, but the girls were already inside when you got there.

“Hey sorry I’m a little late” you smiled as you sat down at the bar table with them.

Sam gave you a smile that you could tell was insincere “No worries” she said as her eyes scanned your outfit “You look… nice”

You forced your own smile to hide your reaction from the backhanded compliment, noticing how the other girls were also assessing your outfit which was more out there than theirs “thought I’d bring some LA glamour to the east coast” you smirked as you flagged down a bartender to order a drink “love the east coast but I think it could use it”

Sam’s smile became more forced and tight as she gave you a quick nod “Right”

You flashed her a winning smile before turning your attention to the other girls, starting a direct conversation with them instead of Sam. She did an unimpressed huff which you caught but ignored, you knew the game she was trying to play and you could play it too.

An hour into the ‘girls' night’ you decided you needed a break from them. The conversation had become less awkward but there was still the air of animosity. Tommi came to your rescue though when you texted her asking her to call you.

“Oh I better take this, I’ll be right back,” you said sliding off your seat.

You didn’t wait for them to reply and walked straight to the door to step outside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Tommi asked as soon as the line connected.

You let out a long sigh “Yeah, just needed an excuse to get a break for a bit, I thought I’d left all the LA bitches in LA” you grumbled.

Tommi snorted “There’s bitches everywhere” she chuckled “What’s so bad about them?”

“Urgh well two of them are fine, Sophia and I’ve forgotten her name, but Sam is the queen bee and the problem” you explained.

“Oh, the peaked in high school kinda person?”

“Yup, instantly judged me as soon as I walked in, I don’t even know why she invited me out” you huffed.

“Maybe she just didn’t expect the medic to also be a sexy bombshell, those girls hate competition” Tommi suggested.

You laughed and shook your head “I wouldn’t say bombshell but maybe… I think I might just cut my losses”

“No don’t give in, you said the other two are alright so stick with them and you never know they might feel the same as you” Tommi told you “Remember when we found out we both hated the same person?”

You recalled that time in college and laughed, the two of you had been studying in the library when the popular know it all girl had swanned past making you roll your eyes before you could check your expression. Tommi had caught it but instead of calling you out on it she let out a massive sigh of relief and told you she found that girl just as annoying as you did. The two of you became inseparable after that.

“That definitely brought us even closer”

“Exactly so just stick it out for another hour or two and you might make a new friend, just don’t go replacing me,” Tommi said and you could practically see her pointing her finger at you.

“That’s impossible no one can replace you” you smiled.

“Exactly now go have some fun, you deserve it,” Tommi told you.

“Will do, love ya” you chuckled.

“Love ya!” Tommi shouted down the line before the call disconnected.

You slid your phone back into your purse before taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You could do this. You stepped back inside the bar looked over towards the table and decided you needed just a few more minutes so went to the bathroom. It didn’t seem like they cared, they didn’t seem to notice you hadn’t come back yet.

Inside the toilets, you only just shut the door to a cubicle when you heard the bathroom door open and three people walk in “Urgh I wish I hadn’t invited her, do you think we could sneak out before she comes back?” you heard Sam say.

“Oh um, I dunno she’s probably stood right by the entrance” Sophia muttered.

You held back your snort, you were much closer than they realised.

“Well, she’s clearly a slut” Sam scoffed “I mean did you see what she was wearing? She may as well have written fuck me on her forehead”

“I thought it was nice, it reminded me of-” the other girl whose name you couldn’t remember said before Sam interrupted.

“No it’s slutty” Sam fired “I bet she isn’t even a trained a medic and is just in the job because her dad is the coach, typically nepo baby”

Your fists clenched, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. While it was getting better it was pretty unusual to be a female medic in the sports industry. But you worked damn hard to get your qualifications you did everything you could to make sure you were where you were because of your merits and not because your dad was a coach.

“Maybe” Sophia sighed “The guys like her though”

“Of course they do, she’s a female medic with the prime access to touch them up” Sam pointed out “I bet that’s why she decided to be a medic, she’s a slut who wants easy access to hot rugby players, I mean have you seen her with them, especially Johnny and Chris!”

That made your stomach drop. You were used to the other comments but the slut shaming and the insinuations were too much. They clearly didn’t know what was going on with you and Chris if they thought you were after Johnny too but did it really matter? It brought back the memories of what you hear in the LA changing rooms which made you feel sick.

Thankfully the girls didn’t stay in the bathroom much longer and you were able to step out of the cubical. You looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to see what Tommi saw but all you could see was what Sam saw. You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, taking a deep and shaky breath.

You grabbed your phone and sent a text to Tommi ‘they’re all bitches and I’m going home, I’ll call when I’m home”

Chris let out a big yawn as he leant back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head “I think I’m gonna go into a food coma” he groaned, his belly completely full of food, some of which wasn’t diet-compliant but he was celebrating so it was fine.

Chris was out with Johnny, Jensen, Curtis as well as a few other teammates to celebrate Ari’s birthday. Since they had a match tomorrow they couldn’t go out drinking so had settled for a meal out. But they might have overindulged on food instead of booze.

“I don’t think I could eat another bite” Johnny complained as he put another spoonful of dessert in his mouth.

Chris snorted and shook his head at the winger. Things were good between them again now, Johnny had proved to Chris that he wasn’t gonna say a word and the team had been on a winning streak the last few rounds so Johnny was definitely right.

“I think I ate too much” Jake admitted as he wiped his brow “I might struggle tomorrow”

The rest of the guys all hummed in agreement, Curtis had a deeper frown on his face than he normally did.

“I dread to think how much this bill is gonna be” Ari sighed as he ran his hand through his long brown locks.

“We’re professional sportsmen, you can afford it” Johnny pointed out.

Ari shot him a look “Yeah rugby player, we’re not in the NFL or NBA” he argued “and some of us have other things they have to pay for besides fancy clothes and girl’s drinks”

Chris arched a brow at the nerve Johnny had seemingly unknowingly pressed, he wondered what it was that Ari had to pay for that meant he was more frugal than others.

“We’ll all chip in and cover it” Chris stated “It’s your birthday Ari, you don’t have to pay for anything”

Ari shook his head “No it’s fine I can pay” he stated.

“No it’s you’re birthday so we are gonna treat you aren’t we?” Chris argued sending a pointed look around at the rest of the guys who all murmured in agreement.

Ari still tried to protest but Chris made sure to take the bill from him when it arrived and ensured that everyone paid their fair share. Once the bill was paid the team made their way out to the fresh air.

“Thanks for that man” Ari said to Chris quietly as they walked out.

“No worries, it's not fair to pay on your birthday” Chris smiled as he clapped Ari on the shoulder.

“Thanks, it’s not like I couldn’t afford it, I just try to be careful with my money that’s all,” Ari said.

“I get it, don’t worry man, it's good to be frugal instead of materialistic, especially when our careers could be over tomorrow” Chris shrugged.

Ari snorted with laughter and shook his head “Great pep talk for tomorrow cap”

Chris threw him a lopsided grin “It’s what I’m known for”

“So what’s the plan, are we hitting a bar?” Johnny called out.

“Storm we have a match tomorrow” Chris reminded him, all of them already had one alcoholic drink they couldn’t go out for another.

“I know but it’s not late, we could still hang out” Johnny points out gesturing over his shoulders to the bars on the other side of the road.

Chris sighed considering it, looking across the road at all the bars they could head to. His attention was then taken by a short black shimmery dress. Chris’ lips parted as he watched you step out of a bar your head low, arms wrapped around your body tightly. You looked stunning, Chris felt an electric current run through him as he looked at you, the same one that he felt last weekend at the BBQ when he couldn’t help but seek you out to just get a kiss. But there was also something wrong, he could tell that much from here.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jensen said pointing across the street to where Chris was already staring.

“Yeah, looks like she’s alone, I’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay,” Chris said barely taking his eyes off you, watching as you walked away from the bar alone “Text me what you decide and I’ll catch up”

Chris didn’t wait for their responses before he checked there were no cars coming before jogging across the road. You seemed to be in a hurry because you had already gotten a good distance away from the bar. Chris had to keep jogging to catch up, something that didn’t sit particularly well with his full stomach.

“Hey,” he called out when he was close enough.

You instantly spun around, your eyes wide in fear. Chris held his hands up in a defensive manner as you breathed out a deep breath, hand on your chest.

“Jesus fuck Chris you scared the living daylights out of me, I thought you were a stalker or something” you scolded slapping him on the arm.

“Well you are the one walking alone” Chris pointed out.

You rolled your eyes “I’m fine my place isn’t that far, thirty minutes tops” you said shaking your head.

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes, you alright? You seem off” he asked noting how you had wrapped your arms tight around your waist again like you were trying to hide.

“Just a shitty night out” you sighed.

“Oh well we’re out celebrating Ari’s birthday, we were about to head to a bar I think when I spotted you, if you fancy joining us?” Chris offered nodding his head back towards the guys.

You glanced around him before shaking your head quickly “No I don’t think that’ll be a good idea, at least not right now” you said making Chris’ brows pinch together as he tried to work out exactly what you meant.

“No problem, let me walk you home then” Chris said but you shook your head again.

“No, no I’m good, you head back with the others,” you told him, turning to walk away before he even had a chance to argue.

“Whoa, hold up I can’t let you walk home alone” Chris said grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

You pulled your arm out of his grip and kept walking forcing him to follow “Chris please not now, I just want to go home” you sighed, your voice squeaking on the last syllable.

Chris’ brows pinched in concern, something was definitely wrong and he wasn’t gonna let you walk home alone if you weren’t okay “Okay but I can’t let you walk alone, I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened, you already thought I was a creep”

You paused, let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes taking a couple of moments before nodding your head “Fine” you muttered quickly walking on.

Chris nodded and fell into step with you, standing on the roadside of the pavement. He sent a quick text to Jensen to say he was walking you home before heading home himself. He shoved his phone and hands in his jeans pockets and looked over at you as you both walked in the direction of your apartment.

Ten minutes had passed and you hadn’t said a word. You just kept your eyes on the floor in front of you, your arms wrapped around your waist. This was the quietest Chris had ever seen you, it wasn’t a side he liked because it wasn’t right, it wasn’t you. The biggest indication he had that something was wrong was the quiet sniffles like you were stopping yourself from crying.

“What was so shitty about your night then?” he asked guessing this sad mood had something to do with it.

“I don’t want to talk about it” you muttered quietly.

“Did something happen? Was someone a creep to you?” Chris questioned starting to get more concerned.

“No it wasn’t a creep it was- it was nothing” you sighed shaking your head.

Chris' brows furrowed “Who did you go out with?” he asked.

“Just some girls from the ticket office, but I won’t be doing it again” you explained with a small scoff.

Chris scrunched up his nose and shook his head “Oh yeah they’re not the nicest, it wasn’t Sam was it? She’s so annoying” he complained.

Your head snapped up to look at him, Chris had to stop himself from smirking victoriously. He’d hit the nail on the head. He might not know the exact reason but he had a better idea.

“You don’t like her?” you asked him.

“Gahd no, she’s like Regina George” Chris scoffed.

Your jaw dropped and Chris had to stop himself from laughing because it was a cute sight “Do you just reference mean girls?” you muttered in disbelief.

Chris gave you a lopsided smile “I’ve got sisters remember”

You chuckled weakly “Well she definitely was a mean girl tonight” You sighed.

“That’s a shame, it’s not nice being around someone who's being mean to strangers for no reason,” Chris said shaking his head.

“It wasn’t strangers” you muttered under your breath, Chris wasn’t sure if you meant for him to hear it but he did.

He froze, putting his hand on your arm to stop you “Wait, was she mean to you?” he asked, anger prickling under his skin.

You opened and shut your mouth a couple of times before shaking your head “It was nothing”

Chris wasn’t gonna let you brush this off any longer “It clearly wasn’t, c’mon you can tell me, we’re buddies right?”

“Look they were really judgy of me and how I was dressed and a bunch of other things” you sighed waving it off.

“How you were dressed? Fuck you look amazing, you caught my attention from across the road” Chris said shaking his head in confusion.

You gave him a weak smile before turning to continue walking towards your apartment “Thanks, I was a bit overdressed though” you admitted.

Chris shrugged “No you weren’t you look like you’re out for a night out, if they thought you were overdressed then they were underdressed” he pointed out.

You let out a small chuckle “Guess I can’t fault that logic” you said.

“It’s a bit shitty that they said it to you though” Chris sighed shaking his head.

“They didn’t, well, not really, I went to the bathroom and they didn’t know and followed me in a decided to chat shit” you explained.

“What else did they say?” Chris asked picking up on the fact there must have been more said.

You let out a long sigh but remain silent. Looking over Chris could see your lips were pursed as if you were trying to decide if you wanted to tell him or how to tell him.

“They said I was a nepo baby and that I was only a medic so I could get up close and personal with hot rugby players” you finally said.

“What the actual fuck!” Chris exclaimed loudly “That’s utter bullshit, you’re one of the best medics we’ve ever had”

You let out a small scoff “Thanks but look don’t worry about it just typical slut shaming”

“No, I am because it’s not on and it’s clearly upsetting you! Do they know about us? Is that the problem?” Chris asked.

You shook your head “No she just said we were close, same with Johnny” you sighed.

“That’s good at least,” Chris said earning another small scoff from you “Look don’t listen to anything she or those other girls say, they’re just jealous because you get to hang out with us guys and we don’t like them enough to hang out with them, what they’re saying is just their insecurities projected onto you” he continued softly.

“I dunno” you sighed shaking your head.

“Trust me, we’ve all been subjected to Sam throwing herself at us at Christmas and end-of-season parties, if anyone is trying to get up close and personal with us it's her” Chris explained trying to suppress the shudder that passed through his body when he recalled the last Christmas party when she tried to grind her hips against him despite his efforts to get away “we like you Y/N all of us, which is why we hang out with you so don’t listen to them, you’re a badass who doesn’t need to worry about their opinions”

You stopped and turned back around to face him, your eyes damp as you looked up at him “Thanks Chris… it’s nice to know you’re on my side”

Chris put a comforting hand on your shoulder “it's nothing” he said before looking up and realising you were outside your apartment building “Are you okay now? I can stick around if you want”

You gave him a brave smile and shook your head “No I'm good thanks, you should head back to the guys, I said I’d call Tommi when I got in to talk about everything anyway”

Chris nodded trying not to look too disappointed. He didn’t want to leave you just yet, not just because you still weren’t 100% yourself again but because he just felt this need to be with you.

“Sure, well I’ll see you tomorrow at the game” he nodded.

“Yeah see you tomorrow, thanks for walking me home by the way” You smiled softly.

“It was nothing…” he said trying to think of something to say to allow him to stay a little longer but he couldn’t “See you tomorrow” he repeated quickly, giving you a quick hug before turning on his heels and heading back the way he came.

He didn’t go far though, staying just close enough to watch and make sure you got inside the building and the lights went on in your apartment. He stayed another moment more before letting out a long sigh and making his way home.

Chris climbed out of his car and brushed down his tie before moving to grab his kitbag from his trunk. There weren’t many fans here yet since the team met at the stadium a whole 2 hours before kickoff, but there were always a few dedicated fans who turned up early. Chris gave them a wave as he walked from his car to the team entrance, even stopping to take a couple of photos with young fans.

Once inside the building, he walked down the corridor that would lead him to the team’s changing room. He nodded hello to any other members of staff he crossed, including the team photographer who was capturing the team’s arrival. The only people he wouldn’t say hello to would be Sam and her other mean girls, but he rarely saw them anyway.

The one person he did want to see though was you. He just wanted to know you were okay after last night. You seemed better when he left you compared to when he found you but you still weren’t yourself. He hadn’t seen you yet though which wasn’t unusual but it still bothered him.

He walked into the team changing room, not everyone was there yet but there were a few. Including Johnny who walked over to greet Chris, shaking his hand.

“Hey Storm, you’re not usually here this early” Chris commented.

Johnny shrugged “Got ready earlier than usual, you missed a good night last night”

“Sorry to hear it, hope you guys didn’t go too crazy” Chris said with a pointed look.

“Nah don’t you worry, we kept it chilled” Johnny reassured him with a clap on the shoulder “Was she okay?” he then asked his voice low.

Chris nodded “Fine, bit of a shit night out that's all, she was with the ticket office mean girls” he explained quietly.

Johnny pulled a face “god no wonder she thought it was shit” he grimaced “but glad she’s okay”

Chris nodded “Me too” he sighed even though he wasn’t confident that you were okay.

Johnny clapped Chris on the shoulder once more before turning and heading back to his cubby. Chris walked over to his, dumping his bag and opening it up to pull out what he needed. His kit was already hung up by the kit manager, he just needed his boots and gumshield.

He was about to start getting changed but before he even managed to get his suit off he felt this urge to make sure you were okay. It was like someone had flipped a switch and there was this animalistic desire to find you, one that he couldn’t ignore.

He mumbled a quick excuse before walking back out of the changing room. He made his way straight to the medic room where he would find you. To his surprise you weren’t in there, one of the other medics was instead.

“Hey, everything okay? Do you need anything?” the medic asked as he packed his bag.

Chris shook his head “Uh no, just- no” Chris stuttered as he tried and failed to think of an excuse “Are the other medics on the field already?” he then asked.

The medic nodded his head “Yeah they’re just prepping the bench”

Chris nodded despite wanting to curse. He wasn’t allowed out onto the pitch until warm-ups which meant he wouldn’t get the chance to ask you if you were okay. He couldn’t quench his desire to ensure you were okay.

“Cool thank you” Chris said before turning on his heel and walking back out towards the changing room.

He would just have to get over it and get his head in the game. He couldn’t be distracted thinking about whether you were okay, he needed to focus on the game and just hope that you were.

He was halfway back to the changing room when he crossed paths with your dad “Ah Evans just the person I wanted to talk to” he said.

“Everything alright sir?” Chris asked.

Coach Y/L/N nodded before gesturing with his finger “Yeah follow me” he said.

Chris followed him down the corridor before realising he was heading towards his office. Chris mentally cursed, had your dad somehow clocked on to your little arrangement? Was that why he couldn’t find you, because you were in your dad’s office?

To Chris’ relief, you weren’t inside your dad’s office but that didn’t mean he was off the hook, he was desperate to ask what was going on but he kept quiet.

“Right, I just wanted to ask you about this” Coach Y/L/N said pointing down to a piece of paper which was a printout of an online news article from a rugby news site.

Chris took a closer look and cursed silently, it was a picture of you and Chris walking home together last night. The photo was thankfully completely innocent, taken before Chris managed to get you to open up. His hands were in his pockets and your arms wrapped around your waist. However, that didn’t stop the site from speculating whether you were Chris’ new fling.

“Oh, oh this is nothing, sir, I promise,” Chris said with a shake of his head.

Your dad arched a brow “it is?”

Chris nodded “Yeah I was out with the guys last night for a meal to celebrate Ari’s birthday, when we left we spotted Y/N leaving a bar alone so I said I’d go make sure she was okay and ended up walking her home”

Your dad nodded his head slowly “Right okay, and was she? She doesn’t look okay to me”

Chris sighed wondering how much to say “Have you spoken to her sir?” he asked instead, your dad shook his head in answer “Well she didn’t tell me much but she said she went out with some of the girls from the ticket office and it wasn’t as fun as she thought but she seemed better by the time I left her”

Your dad nodded his head knowingly “That’s reassuring to know, and I will ask to thank you”

Chris smiled at him “It’s nothing, I’m sorry we got papped and made it look like something was going on, I just wanted to make sure she was okay and got home safe, absolutely nothing between us we’re just friends” he said hoping your dad didn’t see through his white lie.

Your dad snorted “I should hope not, you know better than that Evans” he warned “But thank you, I really appreciate it the past few months haven’t been easy for her so it’s good to know she has people looking out for her over here” he said.

Chris felt his mouth go dry and his throat constricted at the not-so-veiled warning your dad had just sent his way. It was clear that your dad wanted none of the team dating you, there would be no exceptions. The warning wasn’t enough to put Chris off though, he couldn’t give up the electric feeling he felt when he was with you. The team was also on a winning streak and Chris wasn’t a superstitious man but he also wasn’t gonna risk it.

“Of course sir” he coughed “No need to worry about me… is there anything else you need?”

Your dad shook his head “No, just go out there and win”

Chris smirked as he saluted “Yes boss”

Chris made his way back to the changing room to prepare himself for the game. Despite everything Chris managed to get his head in the game with no issue at all. He felt ready to get out there and win. He was still worried about you but he could still focus, the two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

When Chris finally stepped out onto the pitch and saw you his worries were somewhat soothed. You seemed fine, okay even, but something was still different. It wasn’t something he could work out until the match started and he watched you jog on to help Johnny who needed some strapping on his knee.

Chris watched as you worked and saw the dynamic was completely different. Usually, you were all jokes and smiles as you worked but now you were straight face, you barely reacted to Johnny’s quips you just worked. You were being strictly professional.

You weren’t okay, what had happened last night was still playing on your mind and making you change the way you behaved. It pissed Chris off because you shouldn’t have to change how you acted around the team because of the opinions of people who really weren’t worth the trouble. Other people’s opinions shouldn’t matter full stop.

Chris decided that he wasn’t going to let this carry on any longer, as soon as this match was over he was gonna pay you a visit and build you back up until the opinion of Sam didn’t matter.

As it turned out though he didn’t need to wait for the end of the match. After completing a kick Chris felt a twinge in his upper thigh right by his hip. It was one that he would usually just play on for, it was one he could run off. But instead, he sat himself down on the pitch, wincing in pain waiting for you to come over.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you jogged over to him, putting your medical bag down as you crouched.

“Twinge in my thigh, right here” he said pointing to the side of his thigh.

Normally you probably would have made some joke that included an innuendo but you just nodded “Okay let’s stretch it out, lie back and give me your leg” you said holding out your hand to catch his ankle.

Chris did as he was told, lifting up his leg ready to stretch. To lift it high enough and provide some resistance you lifted his ankle so it was resting on your shoulder. A smirk played on Chris’ lips at the sight.

He scratched his beard to hide his lips from sight as he said “You know it’s usually your leg on my shoulder, not the other way around”

Your eyes widened and he saw the ghost of a smile play at your lips “Chris” you hissed, no venom in your voice at all.

“I actually quite like the view, maybe you should be on top more” he smirked.

You shot him another look but he could see your defences falling, even if you were still desperately trying to act strictly professional.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him.

“Much better, you’ve got the magic touch” he grinned as he sat back up.

You let out a small snort and shook your head before passing him a bottle “rehydrate” you ordered.

He took the bottle from you and squeezed some water into his mouth. He watched as you packed your bag back up, your sight set firmly on the task instead of him. A mischievous grin grew on his face when an idea popped into his head. It was a dangerous idea but if it worked it would definitely bring back your smile.

While your attention was still on the bag Chris twisted the bottle around so when he squeezed it the water would squirt out at you instead of into his mouth. You clearly were paying more attention than you let on though as before he got the chance to squeeze the bottle you reached out, grabbed it and spun it back around the face him, the water squirting into his face instead.

Chris spluttered in surprise, but despite his plan backfiring it still worked as you were trying and failing to hold back a laugh. Chris grinned back at you and shook his head, water droplets running off his face.

“Nice try Evans” you smirked snatching the bottle back and putting it in your pack as you stood up.

You held out your hand to help him up which he gladly took “It worked though” he said quietly, you tilted your head in confusion “It got you to smile” he explained making your lips part in surprise “Don’t let the opinion of others stop you from being you” he added quietly before jogging off to go rejoin his team.

When he met his team in the huddle ready to give some instructions for the next phase of play, he spared a glance over to you as you jogged back off the pitch. A smile played on his lips as he spotted the one you hid with a bowed head. You might not be 100% fine but you were better and more yourself and that was all Chris could hope for. He’d work on getting you back to 100% later after he won this game.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated! Same goes for Masterlist, AO3 and Wattpad!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

#niamhwrites #chris evans #boston bears #boston bears series #boston bears: off limits #rugby player au #rugby player #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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TV Crush -141

Based on a request:

This is my first time sending a concept of mine so I apologise if my concept is absoulute dog shit So I'm from Ireland and rugby is extremely popular here and when I watch it me and my mom are really rowdy and we just flatout simp for some of the men so I can imagine a female reader at the TF141 base in the lounge just watching a rugby match and absolutely gawking over one of the players and soap joins in after being curious as to what the reader was doing and then the rest of the task force walk in the room to just the reader and soap absolutely drooling over the players😭 (Have a good day or night💋🎀)

F!Reader, platonic!relationship

Normal day at the base, you sit by the television, the common room has the best channels, especially your personal favourite, Sky Sports. The men at the base use it mainly for football, mainly Ghost and Price but you recently started to use it for Rugby. The sport is quite intriguing, fun and easy to follow along. And, as your weekly favourite match began, Soap rushed to the sofa with you. "Think they'll do the montage?" he asks you and you nod. "If they don't I'm sure, we'll see a fan-made one somewhere."

As the match went on, you gushed over George Ford and his beauty as well as how amazing he did in this match. Soap chuckled anytime you blushed or giggled at the camera angles the channel gave you. "holy fuck that man- Soap! Oh my...look at the- ah...dude...the fucking- oh my!" you kept hitting his arm and he laughed. "I mean, personally I think Anthony Watson is much better looking." You nod, "I mean he is hot- Soap...look at the way he looks at the other team!" you blush and he shakes his head. "And to think he is married- ow what was that for!" he says as he rubs his arm. "Don't you dare break my fangirl moment right now." A promise to another punch if he dares break your heart.

As you two argue and gush over the men, Gaz calls Price in. "Wouldn't surprise me if they were-" That's when he hears you and Soap giggle like school girls. "Never mind." price says and then Ghost walks in. "They're doing it again?" he asks the other two men who just nod.

"If he asked for it, I'd lick the sweat off him," you comment to which Soap playfully hits your arm. "Same but you're nasty out loud, lass." The three men just watch in amusement as Soap and you cheer for when the attractive men of the teams come on screen and boo when they aren't on screen. "One of these days we'll have to put them on leashes or they'll bite any man that resembles any of those lads." Gaz comments and Price, like a tired father nods. "They'll end up getting us in trouble if we don't control them."

"Agree with that." Ghost comments. After the match, you and Soap do the usual social media scan, looking for any of the thirst traps any other fan has made. But in the middle of the weekly blushing and thirst comments said out loud, you and he ended up thirsting over the much older but still attractive, older men in the acting industry. "I don't condone cheating but if he wanted to have fun for a night with me before going back to his wife, I'd give him a pass." A comment to which Soap nods, "Honestly if I were to be with this exquisite piece of art, I'd brag every minute of the day." You hum in agreement.

"They'll be the downfall of this task force." Price says before passing out a cloud of smoke. "Aye, but at least it gives us three hours to ourselves." Ghost comments. "Anyway, you lads want to head to the mess hall." Gaz offers and both men nod, to which they all leave the room. "Fuck do I need an older man inside of me." you sigh out and Soap pats your shoulder, "One day my friend."

A/N: I have no idea where this is headed...

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charmsandtealeaves · 6 months ago

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Hockey and Headaches

Sequel of sorts to this @jilymicrofics (which will be becoming a micro-oops at some point in the future once I've finished my other current WIPs). Written for @jilychallenge 2024, Muggle May. Prompt: University Football/rugby/field hockey training is open to the public, on a very hot day star player A takes a shower from a water hose and B walks against a lamppost because B might have been staring. Partner @eastwindmlk

Read on AO3.

“I still don’t see why I have to attend a bloody hockey match when I could be having a lie-in,” Peter grumbled, shuffling along a good three paces behind the rest of the group. The bags under his eyes were a deep purple, his hair uncombed, and he still had a ketchup stain down the front of his shirt from the night before, completing his look of hungover dishevelment.

“Pete, it’s one in the afternoon. You did have a lie in for fucks sake.” Remus rolled his eyes and gave him a disdainful look.

“It doesn’t count if you didn’t go to bed til 4 am!” Peter bit back.

James was beginning to wish they’d left Peter asleep and drawn a dick on his head, given he had done nothing but whinge since they’d left his place. Pausing only briefly to throw up into some unfortunate person’s hydrangea bush after Sirius had wafted a Gregg’s sausage roll under his nose.

“Oi! Can you stop bickering and focus on the task at hand, please? We’re here so Remus can introduce me to his hot friend. We’ve just got to spot her first.” James grinned, scanning the crowd of fellow Hogwarts Hockey supporters for a flash of red hair.

“One, her name is Lily which you know, two she’s not my friend per se. We have a working relationship that I’d rather like to maintain because she’s good so please don’t be an arse. And three, she’s probably already on the pitch by now.”

James stopped abruptly and Peter slammed into the back of him. “The pitch? Wait, you mean she’s on the team?”

Remus sighed. “Yes, James. That’s why I suggested we ‘bump into’ her here.” He stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck to see over the rows of supporters. “The girls are warming up, so we want to find a good vantage point before the game starts.”

“Right-o, let’s get near the front!” James bounded off, forcing his way through the crowd and not caring who he jostled, Sirius hot on his heels.

Reaching the pitch guard rail he had a much better view of the players on the field. He spotted Lily almost immediately towards the eastern end of the pitch, her red hair tied back in a ponytail and face scrunched in concentration. She was running warm-up drills with another member of her team, passing the ball back and forth between each other while a third player, a blonde, tried to intercept them.

There was a spray of sand from the artificial turf as the blonde’s stick skidded across it before connecting with the ball. Lily cursed loudly and rubbed her face against the shoulder of her shirt, undoubtedly trying to free flecks of sand that had lodged themselves in her eye.

James kept walking east along the guard rail, his eyes fixed on her as she made her way over to the sidelines blinking rapidly and swearing under her breath to where a coach was waiting with a length of garden hose. His gaze was still fixed on her and the hose water that was carefully being trickled down her face and the front of her shirt, when he collided, head first with full force into a floodlight lamppost.

#charms library #jilymicrofics #jilychallenge #may jilychallenge 2024 #jily #jple #james potter #lily evans

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nikethestatue · 1 year ago

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A Match Baked In Heaven

Part 3 Here

Part IV

Thickfreakness

“Who is the bloke with the tats?”

Pots and pans were banging together in the background. Feyre was ‘cooking’. Every Sunday they had lunch at one of their homes–dad’s Soho mansion, Nesta’s Notting Hill flat, Elain’s Russell Square Georgian manor, or Feyre’s bohemian Camden loft.

“Okay, I want to make salmon en croute,” Feyre announced boldly and Elain’s heart fell at the words.

Her younger sister wasn’t what one would call a ‘cook’. And she knew that about herself. Yet it never stopped her from experimenting–wildly–in the kitchen.

“Fey, that might be somewhat ambitious,” Elain cautioned her.

“Why? How hard can it be?”

“Perhaps it’s not difficult, but it is somewhat time consuming and requires a decent amount of prep. Why don’t you go with something easier, like Shepherd's Pie? Or a nice fish pie?”

“Nooo, it’s so boring,” Feyre moaned loudly. Elain chose not to remind her that salmon en croute and fish pie were basically the same thing in essence.

“Okay, well, if you want to venture the en croute route, then good luck!”

“But what if I don’t do it right and it all falls apart?” Feyre whined.

“That’s why you should do something simpler. And no, Fey, I am not going to cook Sunday lunch in case you fail,” Elain warned.

“Ugh, Ela-aaaii–nnn,”

“No. Make fish pie. That’s it.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of the question! Who is the guy with the tats holding Piggy?”

“It’s Piglet. Not Piggy.”

“And?”

“He is a client,” Elain said calmly.

“What kind of client?!” Feyre pressed excitedly. “You usually don’t have clients with tattoos! And that arm!” she gushed. “What does he do? Tell me! Come on! Is he hot? He is hot, isn’t he? An arm like that is attached to a hot man. And Piggy sleeping like that on him. Aww. Aww. Aww. Piggy never likes anyone–I don’t even think he likes me! I pet him and he looks like he is suffering. But the sexy arm bloke–Piggy is sleeping on that arm like a baby. Do you know the story about the scars? I bet it’s something incredible! Like he was saving a baby from a burning house. Or maybe he flipped a car over to pull a granny out of a burning vehicle,”

“You seriously need to calm down,” Elain interrupted her. “I am growing concerned for you. And for my sanity.”

“I demand you tell me!”

“He is an athlete,” Elain relented just a bit.

“I knew it! A footballer? A rugby player? What is he?”

“A sumo wrestler,” Elain teased, only to throw her sister into a complete tizzy.

“I hate you! Can you set me up with him?”

“No,” Elain said immediately.

“Why not? What’s wrong with me?” Feyre demanded.

“You aren’t his type,” Elain cut her off. This conversation irritated her. She didn’t want to think of her sister and Azriel Night. Just no. Azriel was a headache, but he was her headache.

“What is he looking for? What is he like?”

Elain exhaled, thinking about the question.

“He…well, he is the most annoying and impossible man I’ve ever encountered. He is by far my worst client, and I’ve dealt with some doozies,” she complained loudly and passionately. “He is so rude and, and…he is just no good.”

“No good?” Feyre repeated. “That’s what you managed to come up with? No good?”

“He is no good. He is not articulate. I asked him what woman appeals to him and he says ‘pretty’. He isn’t taking this seriously at all. He is probably wasting my time, but I have no choice but to work with him. He signed the contract–which I had hoped he wouldn't. And now I am stuck with him.

“Anyway. I am going to find him the best possible match–someone he wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’ to and then he’ll be out of my hair! Forever. And he also made comments about my body!”

“What kind of comments?”

“Said I had nice breasts.”

“Oh, that’s the worst! When a man tells you that you are beautiful and have a nice rack,” Feyre fake-sympathised with Elain. “That is tough.”

“Gah. Quiet. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

There was more clatter in the background and finally, after a string of curses, Feyre said,

“You are certain you want to find him the best match possible?”

“Of course!” Elain cried. “I take pride in my work.”

“Oh I know. Only I’ve never heard you talk about any client at length and neither did you ever get so passionate about how much you hate them.”

“It’s because I do hate him!” Elain insisted, before relenting and correcting herself. “Well, I don’t hate him. Why would I hate him? I am just exasperated with him. His whole persona is…just ugh,”

“Is he a yob?”

“No. Nothing like that,” Elain disagreed. “He isn’t walking around in a tracksuit with a shaved head. He dresses nicely. He is definitely not…”

“What?”

“Well, he thinks that I am posh,”

“You are posh!” Feyre laughed. “We are pretty darn posh, Elain. Daddy is a Knight, remember?” Elain sighed and murmured, “how can we forget?”

“And then the Duke of Velaris,”

“We are not discussing that.”

“Well, then you are posh to him, especially if he is a boy from the East End. And I reckon he isn’t posh to you?”

“He is from the East End. There are traces of Cockney in his speech. And it doesn’t matter…I don’t care about any of that. Professionally speaking, I don’t make distinctions based on someone’s origins or class.”

“Nevertheless, he doesn’t sound like your normal client,” Feyre said.

“He isn’t. He is difficult and everything with him is a challenge.”

“Well have you considered that maybe in the end, the reward will be great?”

Elain chuckled and said, “I am not sure what constitutes ‘great reward’ in this situation. Pawning him off to some poor unsuspecting woman who doesn’t know what she is getting herself into?”

“The women you work with usually can handle a complicated man,” Feyre reminded her. “They are man eaters.”

Elain sighed.

“Give my love to Piggy,” Feyre chirped. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“Good luck with en croute. And it’s Piglet. You know, you are like Az-,” she stopped abruptly, catching herself right before she blurted out a client’s name.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. You are just like my new impossible client. He refuses to call Piglet by his name!”

Feyre laughed at that. “What does he call him?”

“Pinky. It’s not Piggy or Pinky. It’s Piglet!”

“I actually like Pinky! I think it’s a good alternative.”

“Ugh, maybe I will set you two up. You fit right up.”

“Ooohh yeah! I am ready when you are.”

Elain snorted at her ludicrous sister and threw “bye, you nincompoop!”

“There is an old lady dying somewhere inside of you!” Feyre yelled back.

Elain leaned back in her armchair. It’s been a long night. A long week.

Feyre was right. Elain was an old lady. It was Thursday night and she wasn’t at the pub or a bar. She wasn’t hanging out with her girlfriends. She was alone, in her office.

She ran her finger over the phone’s screen, bringing it to life. Clicked on the Photos. And clicked on the one that she kept staring at for the past two days. Azriel Night, his expression softer than usual, looking down at Piglet in his arms.

She had cropped the top of it obviously, before posting it on IG. It was only Piglet in the circle of muscular, tattooed arms. She titled it simply ‘Making New Friends’ #puglyfe #Pigletthepug and the photo received 368K likes, and over 55K comments, mostly about whose arms these were and who was Piglet’s ‘new friend’.

She should’ve deleted the photo from her phone.

She should have. There was absolutely no reason to keep it. It served its purpose, it was all the rage on Piglet’s page and there was no further use for it. Her finger had hovered over the delete button for two days now, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it. Why? Because Piglet looked so good and comfy? That had to be the reason.

She was definitely going to delete it tomorrow.

It was Friday night, and Elain was ready for some pampering. At least this was her excuse for not going out on a Friday night yet again. But she had a busy week and she was owed a little time to herself.

It was half past eight, and she just sunk into her favourite armchair in her bedroom with her e-reader. Piglet was on the bed, with her phone propped for him, dog videos playing with the sound low. Whenever he liked what he saw, he emitted a satisfied growl, which resembled a cackle. Therefore, even though she was immersed in her book, his angry growl got her attention, because it was followed by the distinctive ping of FaceTime.

Who the hell was FaceTiming her at this time? Also, she rarely video chatted with anyone anyway.

She stretched, almost falling out of the chair, but managed to grab the phone, almost getting her finger bit by her disgruntled dog.

“Hell-...o,” her voice died as she was faced with none other than Azriel Night.

He looked like he was in bed, his face sharp and as handsome as ever, but not as tense as what she was used to. The man’s appearance was both his blessing and his curse. He was outrageously good looking, his face both elegant and perfect, but also typically inscrutable and emotionless. He was not a good person to read facial cues off, and that made it difficult for Elain to understand whether he was serious or not, pleased or displeased, happy or angry or sad.

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match

Find me a find

Match me a match!”

Azriel sang to her.

Her mouth was hanging open.

His voice was…nice. Husky. Sexy. And he sang well, which literally made no sense whatsoever. But he did?

“A girl’s night in, I see?” he asked, smirking. “And here I thought you’d be hitting the clubs. Bumping and grinding,”

“No one says ‘bumping and grinding’ anymore,” Elain told him.

“Yeah, I know. But I just brought it back and made it cool again,” he announced nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why are you ringing me on a Friday evening? How did you even get this number?”

“Ms. Archeron, you gave me the number,” he reminded her.

“No I didn’t!”

“No, you most certainly did.”

Thinking back to the last time he was at her office, Elain recalled what had transpired and cringed inwardly. She couldn't believe that she gave him her personal number!! She never did this. She always, always gave her clients her business number and never picked up on the weekends.

“Fine,” she admitted her oversight. “I gave you the number. Why are you ringing me?”

Azriel made himself comfortable against the pillow, and it stuck Elain just how intimate this was–both of them on camera, in their respective bedrooms, late at night. This was highly, highly irregular.

“Couple of reasons really,” he said casually. “Firstly, I know my schedule for next week and therefore, I wanted to book your time,”

“You make it sound like I am a hooker,” she winced, wrinkling her nose.

“Naw. You’d make the worst hooker in history,” he chuckled and Elain gasped at the audacity of her words. “Maybe as a matchmaker you are managing, but as a hooker,” he tsked. “No chance.”

“And why is that?”

“You challenging me on that, Ms, Archeron?”

“Simply curious.”

“Easy. You like things done your way–obsessively. You are a control freak,”

“Oh, back to insults I see,”

“I ain’t insulting you, matchmaker. Just stating facts. And a hooker’s job is to do the things that the client tells her to do. So there is that.”

“Oh, phew. I am not terribly broken up because according to Mr. Night I won’t make a successful prostitute.

“Besides this odd conversation, anything else?”

He thought for a moment and then grinned, exposing his perfect teeth. He looked so handsome when he smiled it was unfair. Unfair to all men.

“Guess what I am doing?” he teased.

“Lounging about, by the looks of it,” Elain shrugged. She feigned indifference, but Azriel could see through it–she was curious.

“Take a guess,” he encouraged her. “Come on. Humour me!”

Elain bubbled her lips and finally said,

“Probably eating or drinking something.”

“Yes!” he nodded and then reached and showed her two biscuits.

“Are those the same ones?” she gasped.

“Sure are!” he winked at her and then stuffed both in his mouth. Chewing with comical energy, he chomped and said, “nom, nom, nom’.

At that, Elain burst into laughter, like she couldn’t help herself.

“You are mad!” she cried. “I can’t believe you are still eating these!”

“Why? they are really good,” he insisted. “Delectable. And I think you might have to bake some more for our next meeting.”

“Or is that so?”

“It is so.”

“I suppose I should,” she conceded. “I can’t believe that you just pulled a ‘nom, nom’...So you wouldn’t have to drag them with you all over the country.”

Azriel paused, looking at him, slightly perplexed.

“Do you know where I am?” he asked at last.

Elain thought for a second, then simply told him, “Manchester”.

His face dropped and he glared at her in shock.

After a long pause, where she enjoyed his surprise and confusion, he finally asked, “How do you know?”

“Arsenal is playing Manchester United tomorrow–in Manchester. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that you like football?”

“Is it really so far-fetched that I might?” she inquired, relishing in her victory.

“Wait a minute,” he even sat up in his bed, staring at the phone. “Wait. What is your team?” he demanded roughly. “And if you say Chelsea…Well, I don’t know what I’d do, but it would be something bad!”

She laughed.

“You are mental.”

He didn’t react to the insult, other than asking roughly,

“What. Club. Ms. Archeron?”

“Tottenham, if you must know. With Arsenal not far behind. You ought to know that the Duke of Velaris,”

“Oh yeah, Granny Elain’s hot piece on the side,” Azriel chuckled, “what’d he do?”

“Being a military man,” Elain said, ignoring his quip, “he helped in the formation of Arsenal with the armoury workers. Better that they played ball than got drunk on gin.”

“So I am indirectly connected to your Duke? Captaining his team?”

“It’s not his team, and he isn’t my Duke, but he did love my gran.”

Azriel considered it and then murmured, “the plot thickens, doesn’t it? So, my stats that you rattled out the first day? You knew who I was? All that info?”

“Of course,” she shrugged. “I mean, the height and the weight I got from the roster. But I knew your background and who you were.”

“Well, well,” he complained, “that doesn’t seem fair at all.”

“What doesn’t?”

“That you know all these things about me, and I know very little about you.”

“That’s not unfair,” Elain argued. “That’s normal. I need to know things about you, but you don’t need to know anything about me.”

“I beg to differ. Like, I don’t even know what your success rate is? In your matchmaking? Maybe you're piss poor awful? I doubt it, but what if,”

“I am not piss poor awful, Mr. Night. I am very successful.” With some pride in her voice, she added, “I’ve worked with 88 couples. You are my 89th client. Out of the 88, I’ve had, so far, 81 marriages.”

“Shiiit,” Azriel whistled.

“3 couples did not work out, unfortunately. The rest are still dating. I am quite good at what I do, Mr. Night. I’ll find you a fine wife.”

“Ughehhh,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Wednesday afternoon, are you free?” he asked instead.

“Why? Is that when you are available?”

“Yes. But I’d like to take you out,”

“Mr. Night,” she started immediately, but he interrupted her,

“Not a date, Ms. Archeron. Calm the fuck down. You ain’t my type,”

“About 5 days ago, you literally said that you wanted your wife to look and act like me. Make up your mind, Mr. Night.”

Azriel laughed.

“You got me there. But really, I am not asking you on a date or anything preposterous like that. Just wanna get out of the office. I have just the place.”

“Just the place…”

“Yeah, I am betting my bollocks that you’ll love it!”

“Keep your bollocks. Let me see,” she looked up her calendar on her phone and said, “I can do 3 pm, if that works for you.”

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up.”

“What shall I wear?” she inquired, now very interested in where he was planning to take her.

“Clothes. Pearls. Your usual posh shit.”

“Posh shit. Got it.”

He continued, “Now, the other reason I rang,”

“Which is?”

“Would like to say ‘hello’ to my mate Pinky.”

“No one by that name here,” Elain said firmly.

“Aww, don’t be like that. Lemmie talk to the wee lad! I bet he missed me.”

“I doubt it.”

“What was he doing when I rang?”

“Watching videos,” Elain told him reluctantly.

“His doggie videos?”

“That’s what he likes.”

“He also likes me. So let us have a chat.”

With a dramatic sigh, she brought the phone closer to Piglet’s face and heard Azriel exclaim,

“Hey big lad! How are you doing?”

Hearing Azriel’s voice made Piglet actually raise his head and his tail wiggled.

“I missed you. Do you have a pretty bow on?” Azriel continued, her voice all sing-songy and cooey. Elain dipped the phone a bit and Azriel saw Piglet’s bow, which was a chequered tartan today.

“Ohhh, you are handsome!”

Bark. Piglet barked in agreement.

“I had a client from Scotland today,” Elain explained. “He loved the bow.”

“Scotsman also needs a wife?” Azriel asked.

“That’s why people come to me. They either need a husband or a wife.”

“Did Pinky like him?”

Elain looked back at the phone and told him, “He doesn’t really like anyone,”

“He likes me!” Azriel protested.

“Only.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Piglet doesn’t really trust humans. I think he knows that the previous family didn’t want him because of his leg and that when he was hurt, they abandoned him. And after that…well, I don’t know if he understands the concept of death, but I feel like he knew that they didn’t want him alive anymore. That they left him behind and would never come back for him.

“So he doesn’t really care about humans. He tolerates them, but he only loves me. And the only other person he ever responded to willingly, is…”

“Who?”

“You.”

Azriel didn’t say anything to that.

Elain stroked the dog’s back gently, looking down at him, seemingly having forgotten that Azriel was still on the phone.

“Put him on, will you,” he requested again.

She jerked out of her thoughts and then put the phone in front of the pug.

“You be good,” Azriel ordered him gently. “Take care of Ellie, alright? Remember, lad, you are the man of the house. I trust you to protect our girl when I am not there.”

Bark-bark.

“That’s right. You get me. Miss you, mate. Put Ellie back on the phone.”

Elain just gawked back, unable to form any words. What the HELL was that?

Ellie?

Protect?

OUR GIRL?

What in the world?

“We are kindred spirits, Pink and I,” Azriel decided. “He sees me. And I get him.”

“What?” she breathed, still trying to wrap her mind around everything that she just heard.

“I know about abandonment too…and Pinky recognises that,” Azriel said easily. “You know, when I was 8 years old, my father lost a game of cards. He didn’t have the money to pay, so he offered me, as a consolation prize. The men who played with him–well, they decided that it would be fun to light my hands on fire and see how long it would take for them to burn. And burn they did. When someone finally heard my screams, they rang the emergency services.

“My father and my step-mother never came to see me in the hospital, before I was moved to a foster home. So like I said, I know about abandonment.”

Elain was so shocked, she gasped in horror, staring back at him.

“He knows what it’s like not to be needed,” Azriel added softly and then winked at her. “Enjoy your beauty treatments, matchmaker. I’ll see you on Wednesday. Also, you better root for us tomorrow. G’night.”

With that, he clicked off, leaving Elain bewildered and emotionally destroyed.

He would never, ever, ever admit this to anyone, including himself, but Azriel Night was slightly intimidated by Elain Archeron.

She didn't exactly threaten him physically, but psychologically, there was something about her that made him…nervous. Unsure of himself. And he wasn’t a very confident man to begin with. Elain had noticed his self-esteem issues almost instantly–one of the very few people who did–and that made hiding himself from her even more complicated. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, but she made him want to be better. Present the best version of himself. He still yearned to be himself in front of her, because as strange as that was, she seemed to accept him. But he wanted to be someone she enjoyed dealing with. She was judgy, but she didn’t judge him. He annoyed her because he didn’t take her and her work seriously–which he didn’t–but despite their head-butting, Azriel wanted her to like him…Oh Jesus. He sounded like an emotional teenage girl at a sleepover even to himself.

Why?

She was a pearl-wearing weirdo who had more complexes than she had cardigans. Why did he care what she thought about him? Why?

But he did.

So before he picked up the phone and FaceTimed her, he actually did some push ups. He knew that she had one soft spot–her dog–and he was fully prepared to use Pinky to his advantage. He had the biscuits all prepared, ready to spring them up on her at any moment. But he sure didn’t expect to be talking football and finding out about that side of her. And then getting excited about that…like an emotional teenage girl at a sleepover. Nevertheless, he had all these topics prepared in advance, so he could have a smooth conversation with her…and what he didn’t expect to do was to fuck it all up and tell her about how he got his hands burnt. Absolutely unnecessary. Totally inappropriate. He should’ve stopped when things were funny and light, and when she looked surprised and frazzled and adorable (his favourite look on her). But he went ahead and destroyed it all like a damn sledge hammer. What was wrong with him? Everything. That was the simplest answer. Everything.

He sat in his boxers on the bed, his head buried in his hands.

It rained outside and he wasn’t looking forward to the game tomorrow, because the weather promised to be abysmally bad and he’d have to run for 90 minutes in the pouring rain. Oh joy.

Therefore, when his phone rang, Azriel jumped, startled.

It was FaceTime.

He had her under ‘Cute Matchmaker’ in his phone, and she was calling him now. Not even ten minutes after they hung up.

He exhaled and pressed the button.

Before he could say anything, make a joke, or tease, he was faced with Elain’s tear-covered face, her huge, cartoonishly enormous round eyes wet and brimming over with tears. She’d removed all her little beauty patches that she had clearly forgotten about when they were speaking before. Now, it was just her pale, beautiful and grief-stricken face.

“Why did you tell me?” she sobbed.

He was taken aback and was at a loss for words. He watched her wipe her eyes with her first, but tears just flowed out of her eyes in little rivulets.

“How…how,” she hiccuped, “could they…why? How could they…you were eight…”

She choked back a sob and all Azriel wanted to do was beg her to stop crying, explain that it was over twenty years ago and that it was the past, but he also knew that it would cheapen the emotion of her reaction.

“It’s not human, to do something like that,” she wept. “To take a little boy and maim him like that…Why?”

“People do cruel things all the time,” Azriel’s voice was hollow.

“But…but…” she gulped in the air, snot and tears mixing together on her face.

“I am sorry,” Azriel said sincerely. “This wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“I can’t believe that something so awful happens in our world,” Elain admitted naively, “it’s incomprehensible.”

Worse things happened in this world, and Azriel had seen many of them, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure whether Elain Archeron, matchmaker to the rich and powerful, the little delicate pearl-wearing oddity was very adept at living in the real world. She existed on a different plane: enigmatic and sincere in her nature, maybe a little too innocent, but that’s kind of what attracted Azriel to her. Why, despite finding her difficult and mystifying at times, puzzling and irritating he relished in her uniqueness.

“Bad things happen,” he only concluded with general vagueness about his statement.

“I can’t accept that,”

Azriel wanted to argue, tell her that she was being glib, that it wasn’t a matter of her acceptance and that she needed to accept that some people were born in shit, lived in shit and died in shit. That children were abused and that often, parents were the ones who abused them. He wanted to tell her to get her head out of her arse and face the world in all its ugliness.

But he didn’t say any of that.

He made Elain cry, and it made him feel like a massive arsehole for some reason. Instead of laying harsh truths on her, he wanted to protect and shield her from those very truths. This was a girl who rescued three legged pugs from certain death and then put bows on them.

“Will you stop crying?” he asked gently.

“No, I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. About how horrible it was.”

She sniffled and trembled, and he watched her and Pinky as he rubbed his head against her arm, trying to comfort her. The dog whimpered sadly, not understanding why she was so upset.

Azriel thought frantically, trying to find a way out of this mess, until something popped into his head. Something that he and Cassian used to do when they were in the group home, to make themselves feel better about their lives.

“Can I make it all better?” he requested quietly.

She looked at him, blinking over her tears.

“How?” she wiped her face again.

“You’ll have to trust me.”

“Ha!”

“Don’t argue with me, woman,” he ordered sternly. “Get your arse in bed, and under the blanket.”

She glared at him suspiciously, not understanding what he wanted.

Prodding her over the phone wasn’t exactly easy, but he nodded and said, “Come on, lass. Don’t be stubborn. Under the sheets you go.”

The phone wobbled and jolted, but he knew that she followed his directive and in the next moment, she was holding the phone to her face.

“Turn on your side,” he instructed.

She dared to roll her eyes at him, but did as he told her.

“Now what? How is this making me feel better?”

“Ms. Archeron, be quiet for one sec and quit making a fuss. Trust the fucking process.”

“Remember how we discussed language?” she cocked a brow at him.

“Remember how we discussed not being annoying and bossy all the time?”

“We never discussed that.”

“We are discussing it now.”

“Is this sexting? Is this what we are doing?” she suddenly popped her head up from the pillow and stared at him in horror.

Azriel attempted to smother a laugh, though it came out as a loud snort.

“Do you have any idea what sexting is?”

“Yes, talking sex stuff on the phone. And if this is your idea of making it all better, this is a hard pass. I am not sexting with you.”

“No sexting. You are not my type,” he reminded her.

She only scoffed in indignation at his words.

He quickly added,

“Unless you really want to do some sexting with me. I am quite good at it,”

“No doubt,”

“Good at dirty talk. I’ll understand. No judgement. If the ginger bloke isn’t hitting all the spots–which I am guessing he isn’t since you are home alone with your dog on a Friday night–then I can help out…relieve some tension. No strings attached.”

“You are obsessed with the ‘ginger bloke’ as you call him,” Elain pointed out.

“More like fascinated with what man would date you?”

She winced at his words and he immediately realised that he didn’t say the right thing. Not at all.

“So in your mind, I am so undateable that only the most odd and deranged man would grace me with his merciful presence?” she whispered and a sad tear rolled down her cheek.

“I am sorry! That’s not what I meant,” he pleaded at once. “I didn’t say it right…”

“No you didn’t,” she concluded. “I am sorry, Mr. Night, but I am tired and upset and your idea of making me feel better isn’t working. Good night.”

“No, no,” he exclaimed quickly, attempting to salvage the situation. “Please. Just stay on the line for a second. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to know who you chose to be your boyfriend? What does he have that no one else’s got to make you fall for him? Is all. That’s all I meant.”

“You are brutish and aggressive and rude,” she told him, sniffling.

“I know,” he confirmed.

“You are supposed to argue!”

“Why argue if it’s the truth? Now. Close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes?”

“Yes.”

Elain closed her eyes.

“Think about it, but not too long. And then describe your ideal day,” he urged quietly.

“I don’t know what my ideal day is,” she argued softly.

“Well, create it for me. Create it in your mind. What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? Who do you want to be with?”

She thought, her brow furrowing and a cute little line appearing between her brows.

At last, she told him, “In London. I want to be in London,” her eyes were still closed. “I want to wake up and it’s quiet, but I know that I am in the city. I don’t linger for too long, but I do take the longest shower, with like…10 shower heads!”

Azriel smiled at that, but didn’t comment, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

“And then I dress in something very comfortable–joggers maybe, or a nice tracksuit. Soft and loose. And then, I would go downstairs and there would be breakfast. A full English–fry bread and beans and black pudding. The whole deal. And I would eat it all. All the sausages and all the eggs. And I’d drink all the tea too. And once I am done eating, the door would open and in would come Piglet, and behind him, my husband. And he would…”

She stopped talking.

Azriel waited.

There was more to her dream than just devouring a full English. There was something that she was apprehensive about sharing, but wanted him to know.

Azriel knew people–he could read them fairly easily, and Elain wasn’t exactly complicated. But he was the captain of his team, and he had to operate and adjust all the time throughout the game, reading his teammates’ moods and needs.

So as he waited for Elain to say more, he already suspected what it would be.

“He’d be pushing a pram,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “With our children in it.”

“He is good, this husband of yours,” Azriel commented simply. “Makes you breakfast. Takes the dog out. Minds the children.”

“He loves me. And I love him,” she murmured.

“What’s he look like?”

“He is tall.”

“Anything else?”

“No. He is tall.”

“How many children?”

“Four. I mean, two when I think about it. But eventually, four. Why do you want to know?”

“Four is a good number,” he approved. “What else? Tell me more.”

“I think I’d like to go to Portobello Road Market and get lost in the crowds and find fun things there to buy.”

Not what he expected, but alright. He leaned towards a fancier store. Not fucking Portobello Road Market.

“Piglet loves it there,” she added. “He loves crowds. And then we can stop by my sister Nesta’s house and have lunch. Or no…no, no,” she shook her head vigorously. “I want something else!”

“Okay, what do you want?”

“I want to go to Greenwich, to the park. I love that park and the observatory. And the views,”

“You’d be looking at where I live,” he smiled.

“What? Where do you live?”

“Canary Wharf.”

“Ohhh,” she whistled softly. “Fancy! You are a footballer, I guess it makes sense. It’s either that, or Primrose Hill or a big pile in Surrey or something,”

“You are right.” Azriel was amused. But she wasn’t wrong.

“So, we’ve gone all the way from Bloomsbury, to Notting Hill, to Greenwich…Where to now? After the park? What did you do at the park by the way?”

“Played with Piglet. With my husband.”

“Uh-uh. And?”

“And then we need to go to a pub because I’d be tired.”

“Legit.”

“Get a couple of drinks…”

“So your ideal day is travelling around London and eating?”

“Basically yes. I love eating so much,” she admitted dreamily. “Afterwards, I want to have tea somewhere too. At a nice place. Maybe at the Goring.”

“Are you still wearing your tracksuit? And hauling around your dog and kids?” Azriel teased, and she stuck her tongue at him, in a very unlady-like gesture, and un-Elain-like reaction.

“You are messing up my dream day!”

“Sorry. Just trying to picture you in your very comfy joggers at the Goring. What else then? Where are we finishing this day? A swanky restaurant? A bar?”

Decisively, she said, “no! We’d go to my favourite place.”

“I am waiting here with bated breath, Ms. Archeron. What is your favourite place?”

“G Kelly, Mr. Night. I get a meat pie with small liquor and mash and apple crumble with custard.”

“What the fuck do you know about G Kelly?” he gaped at her through the screen.

“You are so rude. I like what I like, Mr. Night. Leave me alone. And my husband will love it too!”

“I mean, I love the place, but come on,”

“What does it have to do with you?”

“Aren’t you marrying me? I am tall. I can make babies. I’ll take Pinky out.”

“You are unhinged,” he said flatly.

“Tell me that you are at least considering it?”

“Marrying you? Hardly.”

“Don’t you want your own bit o’rough?”

“You are not a bit o’rough, Mr. Night. You are a multi-millionaire who lives in Canary Wharf. As I said before, you need to get out of your own head. You are adored by millions and you play for one of the best teams in the world. Yes, you grew up rough, but that’s all behind you,”

“Is it?”

“It is. I grew up as a normal child and I was exposed to many different people and places. I am not as posh as you think.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You feeling better, Ms. Archeron?”

She considered it and then nodded, “I am. Thank you. This was surprising, but it did the trick.”

“I know. Well, sleep well then. I expect you to watch the game tomorrow and root for us. And for me.”

“Oh, is that an order?”

“Yeah, it kind of is. We’ll be discussing it on Wednesday. Don’t get in trouble meanwhile.”

“Oh, I’ll do my best,” she promised, hiding her smile.

“‘Night, big lad,” Azriel called out loudly. “You be good too.”

Piglet was already asleep.

The more you know…

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #elain x azriel #pro elriel #elain #elriel fanfic #my fanfiction #my writing #ACOTAR fanfiction #A Match Baked In Heaven #new chapter #Modern AU

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cosmal · 2 years ago

Note

aaaahhh congratulations!!! 3k! that’s crazy! i feel like it happened in just one second omg

sza — rugby player!james x reader who truly doesn’t care about sports till the moment when she one day catches the end of one of his practices and finally actually sees him in action, her mind melts and it goes from being this annoying thing he keeps on blubbering about to being one of her biggest turn ons.

thank you!!!!ily i know i swear i just did my 1k one omg.

james potter x fem!afab!reader

you’ve never been one for sports!!!! it’s never interested you. there’s plenty of other things that do.

one of them being james potter so it’s a catch 22.

he asks you for at least a week, he’s not above begging.

still, he’s your best friend, one who you’re hopelessly in love, so you’ll do anything for him.

it’s not like you’re donating a kidney or anything, but it’s still fun to watch him get all whiny because he really does want you there.

please come. bring remus so you can complain together.

when you tell him you’ll make it, he gets aggressively happy. a bit overboard but you won’t lie and say you don’t love it.

you bring remus to one of his last training sessions and you’re quiet the entire time, drooling over him.

every time remus tries to talk to you, he has to snap you from some little lovesick daze you keep falling into.

his little shorts. his tight jersey. how sweaty is. how controlling he is on the field. how every time he catches you on the sidelines, he sends you a little wave and a wink. how you’re absolutely, desperately in love with your best friend.

how you think you’re completely stupid for missing out on half of the season already when you could’ve been doing this every tuesday and thursday afternoon.

remus notices. obviously.

god, you make me sick.

what?!

i’ve never seen you so interested in a sport before, hmm?

it looks fun!

right...

once he’s done, he finds you both afterwards. you can’t look him in the eye.

he’s all red and sweaty. panting.

so. did you have fun? interesting?

yeah! yeah, no, it- it was fun to watch.

after that you have so many questions about the sport. what if your hit your head? how does a scrum work? they look pointless. if you can come to his next training. if you can come to watch his next game. and the game after that.

james is shocked tbh. but elated!!!!!

he’s so excited that you’re interest in the thing he loves most!!!!

you feel bad for not ever showing such interest but you know it’ll be worth it now.

you go to almost every training after the first. you’re at every game. his little cheerleader <333

you bring him extra powerade and you braid back his hair. you always go for lunch afterwards. he pays mostly, to show his appreciation.

and eventually the novelty of him being so hot wears off.

of course he’s always going to be good looking playing rugby.

but eventually you just love watching your best friend play rugby. especially when he’s so committed and passionate.

soon, the lunch’s afterwards turn into dates. and you become the best rugby player’s gf!!!!

#mwah #aerial answers #james potter #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #marauder headcanons #marauders headcanon #the marauders #marauder x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x yn #james potter x you

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captainlondonman · 2 years ago

Text

RUGGER BUGGER

Rugger Bugger

Charlie had worked at the Rugby club for a few months to earn a bit of extra money for college. It meant being there on a Saturday after the match to pick up all the towels after the guys had showered and put them in the washer and then generally tidy up. All easy work but Charlie enjoyed being in the changing room after the matches and seeing the lads strip off to go into the shower. They had all worked out and being rugby players had real thick legs and well built upper torsos. More than 6 pack with all their dedicated training. Most guys shaved their chests and Charlie relished seeing their well developed tits and rippling arm muscles. Some had beards, some had their hair tied back and most had shaved heads which Charlie preferred. Christ they looked Real Men. Charlie was slim built and was never going to be man mountain. Some guys liked to shave their pubes but all of them showed off their cocks as they went into the showers. Charlie also liked to hear them talk especially if they had won a match as it was usually how much of a high they were on and what they were going to do that night with their wives and girlfriends, the talk was always about screwing and getting the girls to give them blow jobs. Often as they talked the guys would give their cocks a quick pull one or two of them clearly horny the length just before going erect. There was always banter, mildy slapping arses and hugging. Charlie watched quietly hoping that his cock was not seen by the guys as usually he had such a boner. Often he would go home and wank furiously thinking of what the guys could do to him but knowing it was only a dream. There was one of the players that Charlie liked most. Matt.

He had legs like tree trunks and a wide chest with big pecs and muscular arms. He was always telling the team about how much he worked out during the week to prepare for the game and how at the gym the women were drooling over his body. He was the leader of the group who told stories about all the women they fucked. He had dark hair cut like a crew cut with a squashed nose that had been broken several time on the pitch due to his aggresive nature. He always liked to show a couple of days unshaven growth. Said the women loved the feel as he worked on their pussies

Though Charlie may have had the hots for Matt it was certainly not reciprocated from this pure male stud. All Matt thought of Charlie was that he was the one to tidy up after the games.

That Saturday the lads won so were all shouting and swearing in the showers as they got ready to leave,

Charlie said to Matt as he went into the showers

‘Great score, Matt’

Matt didn’t even bother to reply.

After putting most of the towels into the washer he returned to the changing room to check all was done and the team had all left leaving only a few towels and still the smell of their bodies lingered in the room which Charlie found such a turn on. He saw hanging on Matt’s clothes hook a jockstrap, clearly the one Matt had worn during the game. It was like a gold nugget for Charlie. He picked it off the hook and put it to his nose. He could feel Matt’s balls and cock sweating in the jockstrap. It was high with sweat and he could also smell the piss when Matt had pissed at half time. The more he smelt it the more aroused he became, pressing the jockstrap against his nose, his cock was ramrod stiff. With one hand holding the jockstrap the other went down to the crotch and started stroking his dick. Shit I have to cum here and then I can take it home with me and wank all week.

‘What the fuck do you think you are doing’, a voice bawled out behind him.. Matt stood there with his towel wrapped round him, legs apart.

‘You dirty little faggot, shit you’re getting off smelling my jockstrap you little pervert. I always thought you were a queer boy and I’m dammed right and it’s my fucking jock that isturning you on. Well you’re not getting away with his, no way you fucking little bitch. Get your pants down now, you hear me.’

Charlie was helpless and could only obey the command. This was never what he had dreamt off. Matt walked over and snatched his jockstrap out of Charlie’s hand

‘So you fucking like my smell do you. Well open your mouth and see how much you like this’ With that he forced the jockstrap into Charlies mouth making him choke as it was rammed in.

‘Not so much of a turn on with that down your throat. Now bend over the bench you little poof. You won’t be able to make a sound when I finish with you’

Taking his wet towel off he wound it up making a tight strap. As Charlie bent over so Matt took his aim and slapped the towel hard against Charlies arse. The pain was acute but he could only mumble as the tears started to roll down his cheeks.

‘That’s one for being a fucking queer, now this for taking my jockstrap.’

2, 3,4, 5,6 times the towel hit hard on Charlies cheeks the red weal mark showing and his arse tingling with pain.

‘Now look what you’ve fucking gone and done.’

Charlie looked round and Matts cock was showing a good sized boner.

‘Christ belting you has turned me on, you faggot. I don’t get hard without needing to come.’

He pushed Charlie away from the bench and sat down on it, his legs wide apart and his prick sticking upright. He gave his cock a couple of long strokes and let some spit fall onto his shaft.

He grabbed hold of Charlie and brought his body over for Charlie to sit on him.

‘Well this is what you wanted isn’t it. All I want is to get some cum out of my balls.’

Matt forced Charlies raw arse to move down on to of his prick and as he felt Matt’s head touch his hole, so Matt forced him down his cock ramming straight in and up to the hilt.

‘Now then you little poof now you’ve got what you want my hard big dick up that arse of yours, and sniffing all my sweat and piss from my jockstrap’.

As Charlie was pinned down on Matts cock, the changing room door opened and in walked another of the rugby team, Joe.

‘Fucking hell mate, what the fuck are you doing.’

‘It’s not what you think Joe, I ain’t bloody queer. This little ponce was getting off on my jock so I decided he need to be taught a lesson and after a good belting, shit my cock got a boner seeing all the marks on his bum so I thought a rape fuck would be best for him and me.’

‘Jesus that lad looks as if he got more than one cock up him.’

Joe walked over to them.

‘So you’re a little perv eh. You like watching all us butch guys in the changing room. Getting in and out of the showers. Christ you must be hard as fuck watching us. Surprised we’ve never see your dick sticking out. Maybe you need to get a lesson from me as well. Any game we win always makes me horny and needing to get back to shalft the girlfriend but I came back to get my jacket and I’m still horny.’ Joe said rubbing his crotch which was showing a long outline in his joggers

‘As Matt has his dick up your arse then you’ve still another opening that can service me.’

With that he pulled the jock out of Charlie’s mouth with one hand and with the other flipped out his thick dick now hard his massive head showing signs of precum.

‘So open your mouth wide boy and take my dick. Joe grabbed Charlie hair and pulled his face into towards his cock teasingly letting his head slide gently into his mouth.

‘So you like us rugger men do you. Then you must just luv this being shafted by Matt and having my cock in your mouth. Must be bliss for you.’

Charlie knew he could do nothing. He was being raped by the two guys who were so much stronger. No one would believe his story as they were clearly so hetero.

Joe moved his cock in and out until Charlie had taken the full length and could feel Joe’s pubes brushing against his mouth.

‘Christ boy that throat of yours knows how to take dick.’

Seeing Joe’s cock inside Charlies mouth made Matt’s prick start to throb. He now needed to shoot his load all the way up Charlies arse. Putting his hands around Charlies waist he started to move him up and down so Matt could feel his cock being massaged by Charlie’s arse. The more he raised and lowered Charlie the more Joe was pushing his cock in and out.

‘Tell you what Joe, I’ve never fucked a guy before but this tight arse is almost better than a bit of pussy but I won’t be doing any more of this. Looks as if you are getting a good blow job judging by your face.

‘Tell you what Matt this fucking pansy’s got some bloody big throat. Christ he’s about to take a fucking great wave of my spunk.’

Mine too’ moaned Matt. ‘Jesus I’m about to cum

‘Mate let’s do this together. I’m ready.’

‘Shit I’m coming Joe.’ With a final shove Matt erupted his spunk up Charlie’s arse and Joe let go all the way down Charlie’s throat so much cum that it was running out of Charlie’s mouth and down his face.

Joe took his cock out and wiped his dick on the towel Matt had used to fly Charlie then stuck it into his joggers. Matt pushed Charlie off his cock and also wiped himself.

The door opened and in walked the Coach.

‘What the hell is going on here? What the fuck are you two doing with Charlie? I’ve a good idea.’

‘The little poofter was asking for it Coach.’

‘Don’t make me believe that load of crap you morons. Get the fuck of here now, I said NOW. Grab your things and get out before I fucking hammer the two of you.’

Joe and Matt grabbed their things and left.

‘Come and sit here Charlie, the Coach said putting his arm around his shoulder.

‘I can guess what happened and know you were not able to stop them. They are too strong for you to fend off.’

Charlie broke down into tears and buried his head into the Coach’s chest.

‘Look go and get a shower and really clean yourself and then come back. Don’t worry I will make sure you get your own back.’

Charlie spent ages showering cleaning as much cum as he could out of his arse and this throat. He came back dressed and stood in front of the coach.

‘Now listen carefully Charlie. I will put a bag outside your front door next Saturday. Do as the instructions say and then come here before the match. Look don’t worry, Matt won’t see you and you will know what to do. Believe me. Now go home and relax and wait until next weekend. OK?

Charlie did not know what the Coach meant but knew the guy was honest and caring. Sure enough next Saturday when Charlie opened the front door a sports bag was sitting in the front steps. It seemed quite heavy as if full of clothes. He undid the zip and saw a page of instructions on the top and under it a small bag.

The instructions started

‘Open the bag and you will find a jockstrap, a well used one, take it out and start smelling it getting as many of the piss fumes up your nose as possible.’

As Charlie opened the bag he could immediately smell piss and sweat. He felt as if he hardly needed to stick his nose into it. He felt a bit nervous after what happened the last time he did that but this time he was on his own and so safe. In fact he thought this time it could be a real turn on so he took of his dressing gown and stood in front of the mirror so he could see himself getting hard and then wank shooting his spunk into the mirror.

He put the jockstrap next to his nose and slowly took in the pungent aroma. Christ it was high but he loved the fact that someone had worn this and pissed. The more he smelt it the more he pressed to his nose and the more he started to feel like an electric current run through his body. He felt as if his body had started to shake , the heat intensifying the more he smelt but he could now not take his nose away. His body was not only tingling but he felt as if his skin was stretching every way. Pulling him upwards and outwards. He looked into the mirror and his eyes could only make out a blur so he looked down at his body and saw his legs thickening to look almost like the tree trunk legs Matt had, dark hair was sprouting all around his legs in curling clumps. He was taller ,much taller than before. His arms were massive with bulging muscle and again hair sprouting all down the full length and onto his thick hands. His chest was no longer the skinny frame he had always hated. He had a good slim waist but from there up the body grew outwards showing every strong muscle with big pecs and raised tits. In between his breasts dark curly hair sprouted. Shit what is happening. He then looked down to his groin and between his legs was a thick heavy cut cock hanging between massive balls all covered in hair. His cock was huge and he could see the vein outlines struggling to stop being fully erect. Finally the blur started to clear and he could look into the mirror. He was looking not at just a different body but a different face. He now had like a rugger forward bulldog face with a snub nose that had been broken, a shaved head and heavy facial growth. He looked as if he would mow down any guy on the rugby pitch. He pinched himself to make sure it was him and yup it was.

He started to feel so horny as this is what he had always imagined himself as wanting to look like in his dreams. As his hand went down to start stroking his lengthening cock he looked at the instructions

‘Do not masturbate. You need to save yourself for the match and after. Get dressed in the clothes from the bag and get down to the rugby club.’

Taking his hand away from his new large prick he looked again into the bag and brought out the clothes.

He put on the thong with enhanced cock profile, pulled on the jeans with large belt with it cinched high to show off a proud cock outline. The T shirt was almost glued to his chest so tight it showed every bone and muscle. Heavy black boots completed his change. Charlie looked admiringly into the mirror, swung the bag over his shoulder and set off for the club.

As he walked in feeling fully confident he met the Coach.

‘Hi Chas’ he said ‘glad you could make it today to help us out. Let me take you into the changing rooms and meet the lads.’

They walked in together.

‘Shut it for a moment boys, meet Chas, a great player and I’ve asked him in to help us today as Joe is off with a broken arm. Matt meet Chas you will be working together in the scrum so make sure you get on.

Matt said ‘Well Chas you’re built like a brick shithouse, should be great in the scrum. Haven’t seen you around.’

‘Well Matt, just back and been doing a lot of work out to get back into a shape so I can play again. Coach rang me up and suggested that as one of your guys broke his arm, I should step in.’

‘Yes shame about Joe. Coach was with him at the time. Says he will be out for the rest of the season.’

The guys changed and went out on to the pitch to meet their opponents. A great dirty game with Chas scoring two tries.

‘What a fucking great game that was. Thank God we had Chas in the team. You did a bloody great job and would not have won without you.’

‘Yeah good to be back in the game.’

All the lads went into the shower and Chas held Matt back to discuss the game and what they might do next week so by the time they stripped off most of the lads had finished and were on their way out the door.

Matt and Chas stripped off and walked to the shower, Matt looking Chas up and down.

‘Shit you have certainly worked out Chas. Takes a lot of work to get a bod like that. And that’s some tool you’ve got. Shit a bit of a monster I’d say. You won’t have any trouble meeting the chics later in the pub. They will be drooling over you. Every Saturday they are always hanging around looking for a good fuck.’

Both guys stood side by side in the shower lathering themselves and cleaning off all the dirt. letting the cascade of water run down them.

Matt stood facing the wall and wiping his face as the water splashed over. He didn’t stand a chance. Chas moved over and stood behind him, quickly clasping his strong right arm around Matt’s neck taking him fully by surprise.. Matt brought his arms up to try and free himself but the more he tried the more Chas choked him until he realised it was hopeless to struggle.

‘What the fuck are you doing that for?’ he spluttered.

‘Just think a minute. Remember last Saturday eh?’

‘What the fuck do you mean?’

‘Remember that kid you raped in the changing room with your mate Joe. Well Joe has been taken care of but you need to be reminded.’

‘It was only a joke. The bloody little queer was wanking himself with my jockstrap.’

Wasn’t doing you any harm but you still had to fuck the young guy.’

‘He was probably gagging for it.’

‘Really mate?’

‘Shit Chas what is that you’ve got against my arse?’

‘You noticed my massive dick a few minutes ago so you obviously took note. Well it’s now hard and I’m needing to fuck and you’re the only one around.’

‘You’ve got to be joking. I’m not a bloody homo and no one has ever fucked me.’

‘Well this is going to be the first time for you then. Now widen your legs to let me in.’

Chas pushed Matts legs apart. Seeing Matts broad back and his hairy arse sticking out made Chas’s cock swell to its full length. Shit he was going to enjoy fucking this virgin arse. Chas pressed his manhood against Matts crack, his head forcing the hole to widen.

‘Don’t tense or it’ll be worse for you. I’m going the whole way in so accept and let that big cock of mine work its way up you.’

‘No please don’t. I can’t take all that meat seriously you are too big. I ain’t ever been done.’

Tightening his hold around the neck, Chas felt more and more horny knowing his cock was the first ever up Matt’s arse.. With his free hand he widened Matts cheeks to let his cock start to slip in.

‘Oh my God you can’t do this’

The more Matt begged the more Chas wanted to fuck and cum all the way up. He inched his cock up and as Matt tried to struggle all he did was push his arse out making it easier for Chas to ram the whole way up. When he was fully in he could feel Matt relax his muscles. So he slowly started to move in and out hearing Matt groan with pain but was it? Chas moved his free hand round to grab Matt’s cock which was rock hard and good 8 inches.

‘For someone who ain’t ever been fucked your cock is loving it. Bit more of a queer than you think.’

‘I am not’

‘Well that stiff dick of yours tells me differently.

Feeling the erect cock made Chas start to hump more and more furiously his hand rubbing Matt’s dick and feeling precum at the tip.

‘You’re going take every drop of my cum and shoot yourself, you fairy. The more Chas rammed the more Matt’s arse responded and the louder he groaned until Chas erupted wave after wave of cum op Matt’s arse

‘Shit I’m coming Chas’ and with that Matt spunked all over the shower tiled wall.

Chas slipped his cock out and washed off the remaining cum pushing Matt against the wall.

‘Now get yourself off and look for all those chics of yours. If they know you have just been fucked by a man they might not be so keen. Piss off and look out next time.’

Matt quickly got dressed and said nothing as he sloped off.

As Chas went to get dressed Coach appeared from a corner of the room

‘Well Charlie I said you would get your revenge on Matt and you sure gave that bum of his a mighty fuck. Now you have to think if you want to stay as Chas or go back.’

Looking at himself in the mirror a full rugger player he replied

‘There is no going back Coach. This is me now the way I have always wanted to look like. If there is anything I can do for you.’

‘Well take a look at this Chas’

Chas looked at the tenting in Coach’s joggers a meaty pole sticking out horizontally.

‘That fuck of yours Chas has made me ready for a blowjob. Hope you can oblige.’

Chas pulled down the joggers releasing Coach’s cock as it sprang up to hit off his chest. Pulling Coach down onto the bench Chas knelt down to stare at his cock. ‘This is going to give both of us satisfaction’ Chas said as he opened his mouth to rim the tip of his head..

‘Let me get my saliva going, Coac,h around your dick makes it easier to take the full length.’

As the cock slipped down Chas’s throat so Coach took hold of Chas’s head and started moving it back and forwards his own body arching back with pleasure his breathing deepening with every suck.

‘That’s right Chas take it all the way. Shit what a cocksucker. Joe was right. Go on Chas wank yourself now as I want you to enjoy this as much.’ As Chas started wanking so he sucked more and more the two men reaching a frenzy of pleasure.

‘Christ Chas I’m coming, take every drop ‘ and forcing Chas’s head right up to his pubes Coach rammed in mouthful after mouthful of cum down Chas’s throat as Chas let out a groan his own spunk spurting out across the floor.

‘Am I glad to have you in the team Chas. I may have to give you a bit of personal training from time to time.’

‘It would be my pleasure Coach’

As Chas walked out the clubhouse his phone rang

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Matt. Christ my arse is sore but I now realise what I did last week was wrong. Poof or not I should not have done it and will apologise to Charlie next time.’

‘No need, telling me is enough’

‘I’ve thought of little else since I left you and I’m not going out with the lads tonight. I wondered if you might come round to mine.’

‘So I thought you were Mr Straight.’

So did I, but when you get a cock like yours up your arse it makes you think twice. Now that you’ve opened me up I hoped you might like to have another go. And Christ man I never thought I’d say it but I want to take your dick all the way down my throat. So all right if you want to know I fancy you like fuck.’

‘You don’t need to ask I’ll be round in an hour so get ready for a long night you rugger bugger.’

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