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rumisgf · 4 months

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PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

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samandcolbyownme · 1 month

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Summary: Reader accepts Zach's invitation about coming onto the podcast, despite going through a hard time.

Warnings: there won't be smut in this (I can always do a part 2), but there will sexual innuendos and other things that make it feel like it belongs in this book, kinda sad beginning, swearing, joking around, reader is good friends with Zach and Jared, reader feeling sad/down, long distance relationship? possible angst?

I will be using some actual dialogue from their videos, but most of it will be from me.

Word count: 6.3k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

It's been a few weeks since you and Sam sat down and had a long discussion about your relationship.

You both agreed that it was best you "cut things off'' until things start to settle down - but you both didn't know when that was going to happen.

No matter how hard you tried, your schedules were always packed. You were flying to one state on the other side of the county.

Sam was flying to the opposite.

It didn't really make sense, because things really didn't change romantically, you still said I love you. You still FaceTimed when you could.

It's just, everything was always over the phone.

Through texts, phone calls, pictures.

You haven't seen each other since the night Sam left with Colby to do their overseas haunted tour thing that they've been planning for months.

That was three weeks ago, and it's killing you - both.

You both agreed that you need to give both of your lives all you got, and that's where it made sense. Putting your careers first, getting ahead so you have time to plan out the future together.

You hated it. Absolutely despised it, but you truly believed that if your love was real, and you truly believed it was..

It will always contain the habit of coming back.

You hugged Sam tight, not wanting to let him go. His arms stayed around you, chin rested on your head as he basked in the last moments you had together before he had to fly to Romania.

Then to Spain.

Then Ireland.

It was going to be non stop.

"Hey." Sam whispers, "I love you." You sniffle, mumbling into his chest, "I love you." He slides an arm over your shoulder, tilting your tear soaked face up to look at him.

He smiles slightly, biting his lip to hold back his own tears, "I don't care how complicated things gets. I still want you."

You nod, "Always your girl."

He kisses your forehead, "Always my girl."

You can tell he nods, meaning Colby has signaled him, and you let out a sigh, "Let me know when you land."

"You know I'll update you any chance I get." He pulls you into a hug, squeezing tight, "I love you. I love you so much."

You try your hardest not to cry, but you can't help it and sob into his chest, "I love you."

He cups your cheek, kissing you deeply before leaning back, "I don't want to, but I gotta go."

"Go." You smile, "But don't have too much fun." You laugh slightly before it quickly turns into crying again and you fight it, "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "Never be sorry." He kisses you one last time, "Wait for me."

You nod, turning around to see Colby standing behind you, "Safe travels." You reach up, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck and he hugs you tight, "It'll be okay."

You nod, leaning back, "I know." You wipe your face, watching as Sam and Colby walk towards the gate.

Sam smiles slightly, giving you one last wave before he walks through.

Once he's out of your sight, you cover your face, absolutely breaking down and you didn't care that it was in the middle of the airport.

Your friend walks up, wrapping her arms around you, "You guys are inevitable."

"I have to go in like ten minutes, we're getting ready to head to our next place." Sam says from the other end of the phone.

You pout totally forgetting about the time difference, "Okay."

"Hey " Sam tilts his head, "Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything. I've mastered waiting until we hang up." You laugh and he sighs, "Girl. You're going to kill me."

"If I was going to do that, I would have done it before you left."

You've been coping with jokes and humor. You were still absolutely dying inside with not being able to lay with him. Kiss him. Hug him.

It was still eating away at you, but, as said, you've just mastered it with humor.

"Part of me wishes you did." Sam mumbles with a laugh, "This is hell."

You sigh quietly, sitting up as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand, "I know." You smile as you think about what your friend said, "But just remember that we're inevitable."

"Damn right." Sam smiles and you hear Colby yell at him, "Alright, enough with the phone sex. The car's here."

You laugh as you watch Sam's mouth drop and he pans his phone over his fully clothed in layers body, "Does it look like I have my d-"

"I don't need to know what nasty shit you guys are in to." Colby laughs and you sigh, "Alright. I love you."

You see the phone get ripped out of Sam's hand and Colby's face appears suuuper close to the camera, "I love you, too."

You shake your head, laughing, "oh my god."

Sam gets his phone back and he smiles, "Talk later?"

You nod, "You know it. Be safe. Good luck!"

Sam smiles, "Yes ma'am." He salutes you, "Alright, I love you." You smile, "I love you."

The call ends and you feel that sudden rush of, once gated, emotions hit you all at once. You fall into the bed, specifically on Sam's side and take a deep shaky breath, "Fuck."

You lay a pillow over your face and lay there for a second, taking yourself down from crying.

Your phone dings and you hesitate for a second before you toss the pillow next to you and search for your phone.

A laugh leaves your lips as you see a message from your friend, Zach Justice, Hey sweet cheeks. Come on the podcast.

You click on it, typing out, oh now you want me to come on?

You take a screenshot and send it to Sam. You stare up at the ceiling as you wait for a response from either one, trying to convince yourself that what you're going through, is going to benefit your future with Sam.

Together.

You bring your phone up, rolling your eyes at Zach's response, Not so much me, but the people in the comments. Your name is infesting every video I post.

Infesting? That's a.. weird way of putting it lol. I'll see if I can squeeze you in to fit in my busy, busy schedule.

Your friendship with Zach has always been playful banter, ever since you met, but he's always there for you.

You haven't said anything to him, or Jared, about your current situation with Sam, but you know that just going on the podcast would definitely help you get through this easier.

You bring your phone back up and laugh as what Zach had to say, So kind of you to consider hanging out with me.

You laugh, I know, I can be sooo nice. I'll come if you buy me a plane ticket.

And pick me up from the airport, with donuts.

You see the message change from delivered to read and his face pops up on your screen. You take a deep breath and hit answer, "You couldn't have just texted me?"

"Donuts you say? You must be really going through it."

You laugh, "You have no idea."

"Does this have anything to do with Sam?" He raises his brows when you don't answer him and he hums, "Thought so."

"We're.. together but we're not together? If that makes any kind of sense. I don't know. We both agreed that our schedules are too much for us to be labeled as a couple right now, so we just, agreed to put more focus on the business of our lives?" You shake your head, "I'm just.. feeling a lot."

"Yeah, you're totally coming on the podcast." He laughs, "I'll get your plane ticket." You can tell he's focused on something else and you laugh, "I was joking. I can get my-"

"Done."

"Zach." You laugh, "I don't even know when I'm free."

"Well, you better be free next Thursday." He smiles, giving you a wink, "See you then."

"Don't.. wink at me. That's weird."

"Ugh" he groans dramatically, "Sorry." He smiles, "See you next Thursday, I'll send you the deats." He winks and hangs up before you can yell at him again.

You see a message from Sam and your attention shifts as you read what he says, You should definitely do it, babe. I think it would be good for you.

You tap the screen, Zach really didn't give me a choice. He bought my plan ticket for me already so now I have to move stuff around, but I agree.

Your eyes move up to the time, groaning lowly as you realize just how late it is. You remembered you have a meeting for a brand deal within the next four hours, so you reach over, turning off your lights so you can try and get at least a little bit of sleep.

Why'd he have to get such an early flight, you think as you zip your suitcase closed. You lift it off the bed and set it upright on the floor before replacing the spot on the bed with your body.

The last two days, Sam and Colby have been camping in a place they don't have service, so you haven't talked to him.

Your phone dings and you lift in hopes that it's Sam, but it's Zach, On your way to the airport?

You laugh quietly, You act like you're exited to see me or something, but soon. Waiting on my friend to get here to take me.

Your friend texts you, letting you know that she's there and you get a move on, pulling the handle from your case and wheeling it behind you as you walk out to the living room.

She comes in, "You ready?"

You look over at her, "Yeah I just have to grab my headphones, they've been charging." She nods, "You doing okay?"

You shrug, "I mean, yeah. For the most part." You laugh slightly, "As good as I can be."

"Where did he say they were camping again?" She crosses her arms and you look at her, "Some.. demonic forest? I have no idea. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow I'm sending a search and rescue team."

She laughs, "No I don't blame you." She walks over, grabbing the handle of your bag as you stuff your headphones into your carry on, "I know how Zach is, and he's a jokester.. are you going to be alright?"

You nod, "I talked to Zach about everything last week, I told him that joking is my way to cope, so I gave him the green light."

"I can't wait for this to come out. I just know it's going to be better than the others." She laughs and you nod, "Oh you know it."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Walking into the airport was almost like you were reliving that day with Sam all over again. Luckily, you had to go to a different gate in a different part of the building, which really made it a lot easier in the long run.

"Well. I'll see ya in a day or two." You lean in, hugging your friend, "Thank you."

She squeezes you, "Don't need to thank me. Have a good flight."

You nod, "I'll try. I'll text you when I land."

You turn, walking up to the lady to hand her your ticket. She smiles, "Hi, y/n. I have to tell you, my daughter is a huge fan of yours."

"Awe." You smile, "You'll have to tell her I said thank you.

The lady nods, "I will." She smiles, "Safe travels, y/n."

You smile and walk in, turning back to wave to your friend before boarding the plane.

You sit down in your seat, checking your phone to see if Sam texted - but no message. You sigh, unfolding your headphones and slipping them over your ears.

You've been on enough planes to know the routine.

After pressing play for your music to play, you send a quick text to Zach, letting him know that you boarded and should be there in about two to three hours.

Your flight feels longer than it should be. It felt like time was dragging by as slow as it could possibly go.

But once you land and are able to exit, you practically bolt to the baggage claim.

I got my bags, where are you?

You look around, waiting to either see Zach or hear back from him.

Moments later, he texts, Standing in front of the Starbucks. Someone didn't send me their gate number so I figured I'd treat myself to cheer myself up.

You laugh, grabbing your bag as you type with your thumb, you're ridiculous, did you at least get me one?

Zach replies, No why would I do that?

You roll your eyes and walk to the Starbucks, smiling as you see him holding two coffees, "You did in fact do that."

He turns, smiling as he opens his arms to hug you, "Yeah yeah, don't ruin it."

You step back, taking the coffee he hands you, "Ready?" He nods, "right this way, sweet cheeks."

"You just going to keep coming up with new nicknames each time you talk to me?" You laugh and he stares at you, "Um, yeah. That's what I've been doing? Right?"

You roll your eyes, "What are you going to do when you run out of nicknames? Recycle the old ones."

He laughs, "Boy are you funny. Listen here." He stops pointing to his head and you tilt your head as you watch him tap his temple, "This baby can go for miles. Don't ever underestimate me."

You hold your hand up in defense, "Message received, sweet cheeks."

He gives you a look, trying not to laugh and he sighs, "Not cool." He laughs, turning to lead you to his car.

The ride to the house was filled with small talk, mainly catching up and what not since it's been over a year since you've seen him last.

Once there, you're greeted by Jared and Alyssa with hugs.

"How was the flight?" Jared asks and you shrug with a laugh, "Long."

"Did you do your hair recently? It's so pretty." Alyssa plays with a stand and you nod, "Yeah I went after a meeting last week. I figured I needed a change or something."

"You know, I think I seen it on Instagram." She laughs and Zach rolls his eyes, "girl talk, yuck. I'm not doing this." He walks over to sit down and puts his headphones on.

He motions to the empty chair, "Are we doing this?"

"I still don't have a choice do I?" You laugh and Zach sighs, "Now you're finally getting it."

You set your stuff down, walking over to sit on the red seat. You put your headphones on and look around as Jared and Alyssa get settled in.

"We good?" Zach asks and looks at everyone, and you all nod.

"What's up guys. Welcome to one ninety six of Dropouts." Zach starts in a loud, cheery sing songy tone, "Were here with the guest you've all been waiting for..."

Jared gives Zach a drum roll and Zach looks at you, "Miss Y/n y/l/n."

"Hi everybody." You smile, "Just to let everyone know, Zach didn't give me a choice to do this, so everyone should go flood his comments-"

"No, cut that out. We're cutting that out." Zach tries not to laugh, "Listen. It only took how long for you to finally get here?"

"She's a very busy girl, Zach." Jared laughs, "Speaking of.. Did I, or did I not, see that you're going to be on the next cover of vogue?"

"You guys heard about that?" You smile and look at Alyssa and she claps for you, "Powerful woman."

You smile and look at Zach, "Jealous?"

Zach raises his brows, "That I'm not a woman? Please. I don't need anymore problems." He takes a deep breath, "Anyway. Besides that, I want to ask you a very serious question."

You time your head, "That could be anything.."

Zach fights back a smirk, "You seen, two or three episodes back that we had.. Sam, and Colby on here, right."

Jared laughs, "Zach, where are you going with this?"

"No where. Well. I mean." He laughs, "Somewhere, but just, wait. We aren't there yet."

"Clearly." You and Alyssa say at the same time and you both laugh.

Zach points between the two of you, "See. This is why I don't like having them both here, they like tag team me and not in the way any man would want to happen, ya feel me?"

You roll your eyes, "Sam and Colby, your question." You laugh when he looks at you and he smirks, "You and Sam.. getting down and dirty yeah?"

You laugh, "If you want to put it that way, I mean. Yeah, but not like.. recently."

"Why's that?" Zach rubs his chin with his fingers and you shrug, "in the words of Jared, she's a very busy girl, Zach."

"Mm, okay." He raises his brows and shakes his head, "Now another question I have for you.. and don't get mad at me for asking this, because if I'm correct, they confirmed this when they were here."

You raise your brows, knowing exactly where this is going, "Mhm."

"Did Sam leave the states to be with Colby officially because, now, this is what I was told, you threatened to turn Colby into a spirit himself?" Zach leans back and you stare at him for a few second before laughing, "Oh my god."

"That's.." Jared laughs, "Who did you hear that from?"

Zach makes a face, "Oh so now you're going to sit there and pretend like that isn't what you told me last night?"

"Whoa, okay. No. Y/n. I didn't-" Jared laughs and Zach cuts in, "Oh, see. He can't deny it. His face is as red as the seats and he's starting to smell because he's so full of it."

"What the fuck." Jared rolls his eyes and you sigh, leaning in towards the mic, "For the record, I have never threatened to turn Colby into a spirit."

"But you aren't denying that they're married?" Zach tilts his head, pointing his finger at you, "But even then, you'd have to ward off Colby because I'm sure his spirit will just attach to Sam."

"No that's little girl spirits." Jared laughs, emphasizing again, "Spirits. We've been over this with them. Please don't take that the wrong way."

"Anyway." Zach shakes his head, "When's the last time you talked to either one of them?"

You sigh, "Oh gosh. This will be day three, but I've already said, if I don't hear from him by the end of today I'm sending in a search and rescue team for their asses."

"Oh gosh, that just.. wow." Zach sighs, "Can I just.. that just brought up something very serious and I need to say it, like right now."

"Or what you'll explode?" Alyssa asks causing you and Jared to laugh. Zach looks over at her, "Can you just shut up for two seconds, I have something important I need to say."

Alyssa raises her hands, fighting back her laughter.

Zach looks at you and he takes a deep breath, "Now this.. might be hard for you to hear, as well for everyone else watching and, or listening.. but.." he looks into the camera, "If you wanna see me go retrieve Sam and Colby from." He pauses and looks at you, "Where are they right now?"

You fight back laughter, "Camping in some demonic forest."

He picks right back up, "Camping in a demonic forest, subscribe to the Patreon, you can see all of that plus stuff that's already happened."

"You're.. insufferable." Jared shakes his head as he looks down and Zach just shrugs, "People like them. And if they know that I'm willing to help them, they'll like me, too. Okay. Moving on."

"So you literally got in today? Like your flight." Zach asks and you just stare at him. He cracks a smile, "What?"

"You're literally the one who picked her up from the airport, Zach." Jared laughs and you gasp, "Oh, and he brought me donuts like I said to last week and a coffee at the airport while he was waiting for me."

"Hey hey hey." Zach says quickly, "Don't be telling everyone lies. You know I spit in your coffee before I gave it to you."

"That's atrocious, Dude. What the fuck." Jared closes his eyes and shakes his head. You stare at Zach, "No you didn't." Zach shrugs, "The world may never know."

"I don't know if I believe him, because I can totally see him doing that, just like to fuck with someone close to him." You laugh, "Oh god, I drank all of that, too. Did you really do that?"

Zach sighs, nodding his head as he speaks, "No, I didn't."

"See!" You point to him laughing, "You're a child."

Zach laughs, "Yeah and you're the queen of England." He pretends like he's using a gavel, "Case closed. So. Back to Sam and Colby.. Since you're so close with them, like have you gone on any investigations with them?"

"I used to. Like right before my channel took off, I would go with them maybe twice a month?" You answer and Zach nods, "Is that why your channel blew up?"

You can tell he's asking something that does relate to being touched or spoken to by a ghost, "Are you-"

"Yes." Zach cuts you off and you laugh, "No. I didn't sell my soul. I'm pretty sure it's still there, I mean I don't know how to check but."

Zach reaches over and feels your wrist, "Still there."

"Zach." Jared bursts out laughing, "that's her pulse man, not her soul."

Zach shrugs, "You never know. She may have turned into some sort of succubus demon thing that doesn't have a pulse but she has one. She's good."

You roll your eyes and you can feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants, "I'm getting a call."

"That the devil calling, he wants to return your souls." Zach says and you laugh, "That was good." You pull your phone out, not even hiding your happiness when you see Sam's name, "It's Sam."

You push your one headphone off your ear and bring your phone up, "hey!"

"We just got to service, are you okay?" Sam asks and you keep smiling, "Yeah I'm actually doing the podcast right now."

"Oh fuck, right now? I'm sorry." Sam says and you shake your head, "No, you're fine, how was it?"

You look over at Zach and he wiggles his fingers, "Put him on speaker." You hold up one finger and continue to listen to Sam speak, "I'll have to FaceTime you later and show you. It was pretty nuts."

"Oh god, yeah I'm sure. Zach wants me to put you on speaker so I'm going to do that here in a second." You take the phone away and tap the button, "Okay."

"Is y/n a succubus?" Zach asks straight away, obviously catching Sam off guard, "What.. the fuck?" He laughs, "Is she a what?"

"A demon. I mean I checked her pulse and she has one so I think we're good, but I figured I'd check in with the main ghost hunter because you'd know her better than any of us."

"What kind of things are you talking about on the podcast?" Sam laughs and Zach sighs, "I guess you'll just have to wait and see when the video comes out."

"Um.. okay." Sam laughs and you take him off speaker, "You're off speaker, now."

"Yeah so give it to her good, Sammy my boy." Zach yells and you roll your eyes as Sam laughs, "There's something wrong with him."

"Oh I know. But according to him, his brain can go for miles."

"Y/n. What did I say about telling my secrets." Zach shakes his head and you shrug, "Sorry, that must have been the devil taking over."

Zach raises his eyebrows, "Clearly." He nods, "Ask Sam if he got my text, since they now have service and what not."

You relay the message and Sam takes a second to check, "Oh yeah, I got it."

You nod to Zach, "Yeah, he got it." Zach nods, fighting back a smirk, "Cool, cool."

"Why are you acting like that?" Jared asks and Zach tilts his head, "What do you mean?" Jared looks from him to you, "You're being.. more weird than usual."

"I have my meter for weirdness and it sits right here." Zach holds his hand up, "and I haven't gone above that level since... Mm. Let say. Tuesday?"

"What's going on?" Sam asks and you laugh, "Oh Zach and Jared are arguing. Normal stuff, you know."

Sam laughs, "Oh yeah. Typical." You hear him sigh and you know what's about to happen so you cut him off before he can say anything, "Talk later?"

"You know it. I love you." Sam says and you smile, looking down, "I love you."

The call ends and you look up, "Alright."

"Alright, now we can get on with other things." Zach claps his hands together, "Are we still going out after this?"

You raise your brows, "Out?"

Zach furrows his brows and looks from Jared to Alyssa, "Is your guy's stuff acting up?" He motions to his headphones and they both shake their heads no.

"Mines good, why is yours?" Jared asks and Zach shakes his head, "No, I'm just trying to make sure that y/n can hear me alright because out is exactly what I said."

You roll your eyes, "Oh my god. Shut the fuck up."

"I didn't know if you could hear me okay or not, was just double checking, jeeze. No need to be so aggressive." Zach tries not to laugh and you shake your head, knowing that no matter how much you try and talk yourself out of it, you'll still be going out.

So you just sit back and accept your fate.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Almost two hours later, the podcast comes to a close and you set your headphones down on the bench, "Is it just me, or did that podcast feel like it went longer than normal?"

You look between Zach, Jared, and Alyssa.

"I don't think it felt any different." Jared shakes his head and shrugs. Alyssa nods, "I think it went over just a little bit, but not much."

You nod and Zach stands up, "That jet lag must be really doing a number on you."

You shrug, "I don't know, but are we at least getting dinner because I haven't eaten since this morning."

"You are such a cry baby. Let's go." Zach laughs as he walks away and you scoff, following him out the door.

You all pile into the car and start driving to the restaurant, "So where was Tara?" You ask leaning forward, "I texted her but I haven't gotten any answer from her."

"She's like, really sick." Zach says, "I called her this morning and it sounded like she swallowed her phone."

"Oh god, if she sounds that bad then she's probably sleeping it off." You lean back, looking down at your phone, "So what did you and Sam talk about?"

You look up at Zach and he looks back at you in the rear view, "When did your name change to Nelly because you're awfully nosey."

You laugh, "Fine then don't tell me. I'm sure he'll tell me anyway."

"Yeah, he probably will." Zach turns into the parking lot and you roll your eyes, accepting that reverse psychology doesn't work on him.

As you get out, you check your phone. You let out a sigh and slip it into your pocket before closing the door.

"I don't know much about the situation.." Alyssa says as she walks over to you, ".. but I know that you and Sam are major endgame if you ask me."

You smile, "Thanks. I just.. we talked about putting pause on our relationship and it's just so hard because the only thing that really changed was us making time for each other. I mean, it didn't really happen much lately anyway, but the fact that we just cut it all out in one shot.." you sigh, "I hate it."

She nods, "I'm sure it's rough, but you both have great careers, and I promise that it'll work out in the end. It might not seem like it now, but it will."

"Thank you." You take a deep breath, "I actually needed that."

She smiles and rubs your back, "Come on, Zach is probably in there bitching."

You laugh and roll your eyes, "Probably."

You walk into the restaurant, making your way to the table that Jared and Zach are sitting at and Zach looks up, "So they didn't get kidnapped."

"You can't get rid of us that easily." You laugh as you sit down, "So what's good here?" You look over at Alyssa and she explains some of her favorite dishes.

Throughout dinner, you caught yourself checking your phone and your sadness grew each time you seen zero notifications from Sam.

At this point, you wanted to go to a hotel and just sleep off your day.

But that wasn't happening.

"Why do you look more miserable than normal?" Zach asks and you look up at him, laughing slightly, "I'm just.. getting really tired."

Wasn't a full lie.

"Uh huh. Well you better wake up, because where we're going next will get your mind off, being tired." He tilts his head and you roll your eyes, "I hate that you know me."

"You secretly love it. Now come on." He stands up, along with you and everyone else and you make your way out to the car.

You're quiet for the most part, except for when they force you to join in on conversation.

"When did you hear about Vogue?" Alyssa asks and you can't help but smirk, "I found out a few days ago. I kind of just waited, kept it to myself. It really didn't hit until Jared asked me about it."

"So wait, the post that they made with your picture titled the next face of vogue didn't make it set in?" Jared asks and you shrug, "honestly, no."

You laugh and sigh, "How much longer?"

"We're here." Zach replies and you nod, looking out the window at the building, "So is this like a bar scene? I'm not dressed for that." You joke and Alyssa laughs, "You look fine, trust me. Your sweats were the way to go."

"I am super comfortable." You laugh as you get out, not even bothering to check your phone.

You follow them in, handing the bouncer your ID, letting him check it before making your way in.

The music is loud and it's filled with a few faces that you've met before, not anyone you're really willing to sit down and have a conversation with, though.

You walk up to the bar, ordering your drink as Alyssa does the same.

"So don't.." she laughs, "Don't tell Zach I told you this, I mean, he'd kill me if he knew you knew this.." she pauses and you nod, smiling, "secret is safe with me."

She leans in, "Zach is actually worried about you. He's afraid that you're working yourself too much and now he's worried that this whole Sam situation will break you."

You're actually kind of surprised, but at the same time, you're not, "I kind of thought that when he called me that night instead of just texting me.. but I'm actually really happy to hear that from someone who's close to him each day."

You take your drink, laying down your money, "keep the change."

Alyssa does the same and looks to you, "Just let him think that he's doing something you don't know about. I don't want him firing me."

"I won't let that happen." You laugh, "Thank you."

She nods and you walk back towards Zach and Jared. Right as you walk up, Zach stands up and walks way, phone pressed to his ear and he doesn't say a word.

You furrow your brows and point to him, "What was that all about?"

Jared sighs, "Last minute cancellation for the podcast. He's not taking it good."

"Oh gosh, who was it?" You sit down and Jared looks to Alyssa before he leans in, "Don't say anything, but it was the triplets."

"Chris, Nick, and Matt?" You raise your brows, "Why'd they cancel?"

Jared shrugs, "No idea, that's what Zach is trying to figure out." You pout, "oh gosh, I have Chris' number. I can text him and see-"

"Alright. We're good to go." Zach comes back and sits down. You look over at him, "So the triplets are coming on? They're not canceling?"

He looks between Jared and Alyssa before tilting his head, "You're not supposed to know.. so just.." he lowers his hand in reference to you lowering your voice and you nod, "Ahh." You lower your voice, "Gotcha."

You sip your drink and pull your phone from your pocket as you feel it vibrate, "Oh. It's Tara."

"What did she say?" Zach says and you read over her text, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the podcast. I was super sick this morning. I just now woke up, but I'm feeling a lot better, are you still in town? Would love to meet up with you before you leave again."

"What's the name of this place? I'm going to text her where I'm at." You look up and Jared tells you the name before you shoot her back a text.

"She said she'll be here in an hour." You put your phone back in your pocket and look down at your empty glass, "I'll be right back."

You get up, walking up to the bar to get another drink.

"Are you okay?" Zach asks and you look over at him, "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" He shrugs, "I'm just.. asking. Jeeze. Can't a guy just ask a girl if she's okay?"

You fight back a smirk, knowing that he really cares, "Yes, Zach. I'm fine, and you.. and Alyssa and Jared have all helped me get through the day without crying."

"Good, because I really don't think I could handle you crying.." Zach laughs slightly, "Tara said she'll be here in an hour?"

You nod, "Yeah, she has to get ready first, I guess."

He nods, "Of course she does."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Mm." You set your glass down, "Tara's here."

"She is?" Jared asks shocked and you look at him funny, "That's what I just said, isn't it?"

Jared tilts his head, "You've been around Zach for too long." He laughs and stands up, "I'll go get her."

"No I will. I haven't seen her in so long." You stand up, but the three follow you out anyway. You glance behind you, laughing slightly as you shake your head.

You make your way to the door and look around, "Where is she?"

You get a text from Tara, Patio, sorry I saw someone else I haven't seen in a while.

You look at Zach, "She's on the patio."

"To the patio we go." He points, leading you down the side of the building. You round the corner, seeing Tara standing there with a huge smile, "Ahh!" She yells as she runs towards you, "I've missed you!"

"Hey!" You yell and hug her, "I've missed you!" You lean back, "You look so good!"

"Same for you miss cover of vogue!" She pushes your shoulder, "How fucking amazing is that?!"

You nod, "Pretty amazing."

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you think it's just Zach pulling you away to pick on Tara, but when you turn, your heart falls into your stomach, "No fu-fucking way."

Sam is standing there, a huge smile on his face, "I couldn't go without seeing you anymore." He pulls you in for a hug, face buried into your neck and the tears you've been holding in all damn day are finally let loose.

"Hey. Hey, hey." He lays a hand on your head, shushing you quietly, "It's okay." He turns his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I'm here."

You're glued to him. You want to let go so you can lean back and look at him but your body just wants to hold him.

"I'm taking time off. I'm traveling with you. I want to be with you." Sam whispers and you lean your head back, just enough to look at him, "Really?"

He nods, "Really. You're more important than anything in the world. We're making this work. I'm going to make it work."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The end feels kind of rushed, and I promised you guys this yesterday, but I've been battling a migraine attack non stop for the last four days, so I just wanted to get something out.

A part 2 (with smut) is definitely in the brain for this, you know when I can get it to stop working against me.

But as always, let me know how you liked it. Thanks for reading. I love you all! 🖤

likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach one shots #sam Golbach #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach and colby brock #Sam Golbach one shot #dropouts ft y/n #dropouts podcast #dropouts #dropouts Zach justice #zach justice #ft Zach justice #y/n #sam golbach x you #famous!reader #famous!y/n #influencer!reader

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starrspice · 1 year

Text

IT'S HERE

PIRATE/SIREN AU SO REAL

I've decided to name it the Silent Shanty AU!!!

In this AU Y/N was a siren who became fascinated with the human world and decided to leave the ocean depths to become a sailor and see the world. Eventually they were discovered to be a siren and was captured, sold, and traded countless times over. Often treated like a wild beast and typically mistreated.

Sun and Moon saved Y/N from being sold again in a black market auction, intending to rescue a mythical beast only to find a shaken up human instead. Upon being rescued by Sun and Moon they remain silent so they can never be accused of using their siren song against anyone.

Sun and Moon are completely unaware Y/N is a siren and just think they're a normal human who has come to somehow make their home with them and their crew.

Until Eclipse makes himself present and causes all kinds of trouble insisting they swooped in and stole Y/N out from under him. That they interrupted HIS rescue attempt. So he makes himself and ever present nuisance to Sun and Moon, constantly attempt to Woo Y/N so they'll join HIS crew instead

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bejeweledaus · 5 months

Text

CELEBRITY CRUSH | Quinn Hughes au!

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PROLOGUE;

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twitter;

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instagram;

yourusername posted

liked by naileadevora, yeslydimate and 890,789 others

yourusername: new YouTube video is out and I revealed who my new celebrity crush is, try to guess…you all won’t get it right ;)

view all 409 comments

naileadevora are you challenging them y/n?

yourinstagram why yes, yes I am :)

user34 does anyone know who it is

larray y/n…sweetie…someone on twitter already figured it out 🥲

user28 LARRAY 😭

user78 so Nicole was right..thank you Larray for the confirmation:)

user43 _quinnhughes

user33 not you all already tagging him 😭

user43 he deserves to know _quinnhughes

user87 _quinnhughes she likes you

user123 _quinnhughes come get your new future wife

yourinstagram NOT THE FUTURE WIFE.. YALL STOP IT 😭😭

user66 _quinnhughes

user29 _quinnhughes she really likes you 🤗

user37 we should tag his brothers as well so they can show him.. jackhughes Ihughes_06

user27 GOOD IDEA!! jackhughes Ihughes_06 she likes your older brother _quinnhughes

user55 jackhughes Ihughes_06 _quinnhughes

yourinstagram not you guys tagging HIS BROTHERS? y’all I need you all to ✨ c a l m d o w n ✨

yourinstagram STOP TAGGING HIM AND HIS BROTHERS PLEASE 😭😭

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twitter;

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instagram;

* _quinnhughes liked your post *

* _quinnhughes started following you *

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#quinn hughes #qhughes43 #qh43 #vancover canucks #nhl #nhl hockey #national hockey league #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #female!reader #x reader #reader insert #influencer!reader #hockey #hockey x reader

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konigbabe · 1 year

Text

heavenly sin

Pairing: RE4!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags/warnings: smut (pure unfiltered filth, no plot); voice kink; p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; female masturbation; fingering; cunnilingus; established relationship; no y/n; references to Christianity and ferocity; extensive wordplay

Summary: It's been known that Leon is one kinky bastard.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. N is for narratophilia aka being aroused by sexual storytelling.

Tried something a little bit different to explore my knowledge of English. A wordplay of sorts (I basically threw random words together in hopes that it'd make some sense). Bon Appetit.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

“You enjoying yourself?” As Leon discards his gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity. “If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

It started as a joke, a fleeting spark in the sea of banter. Leon’s flirtatious nature entwined in perfect harmony with his tender heart.

Fresh out of the shower, your heart longed for the man whose sudden departures have become routine. A standard in your life.

The sun made its final descent below the horizon, the sky painted in shades of amber and gold – the bedroom awash in a warm and inviting glow, as if every object was kissed by the sun's final rays. The light filtered through the sheer curtains, creating patterns on the floor that danced like flickering flames.

And in the midst of it all, Leon's call came through, cutting through the stillness.

The conversation began innocently. Calling to let you know he’ll be home soon. It was as though his tenderness was butterfly's wings, fluttering in your chest and making your heart skip a beat.

His sincere words slowly spilt over into something else. Something more. Something promising.

It’s now that the phone lies next to your ear, and Leon's voice, like a silk ribbon, unwinds into your consciousness, stirring a deep and primal desire within you. Building the anticipation need inside you.

“After that, I’d bent you over the table. You’d already be naked and dripping,” Leon’s voice a song of Solomon, “but I’d be far from done with you.”

A gasp, soft and quiet, escapes your parted lips. Every fibre of your body, every cell is set on fire. The setting sun casting flames over your naked skin of yours. Flesh burning. Body wrapped in a cocoon of passionate flames – your palm pressing against the sensitive nub, the pressure light as a feather. Slow, languid strokes of your fingers follow Leon’s words.

Muscles tightening as the pressure keeps adding with each sentence. Slow and steady. With a pace of a gentle stream. Dipping one finger deep inside your slick walls, only to stop when you reach fully inside.

A stream of docile moans flows from your throat.

“Just to feel you take my cock. Hear those gorgeous gasps as you beg me to give it to you,” hand gripping the messed-up sheets underneath you, squeezing tight as you add another finger, curling them upwards.

“Rough, just how you like it. Pretty sure we’d break the table,” Leon’s words are accompanied by a light chuckle, hiding much more sinister and vivid ideas inside his head.

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him cuss. Your voice carries the weight of longing, desire, and devotion. Making Leon wish to finally be home.

“Fuck. Could spend all day between those lovely legs of yours.” Leon’s voice descends to a low murmur, tinged with raw, feral hunger.

With a touch as tender as a butterfly’s wing, thumb circling the aching nub of nerves; it ignites a wildfire of ecstasy within your body. As you lightly graze your opening, feeling the softness of your slick walls, a delicate gasp escapes your mouth, akin to a prayer of submission to this moment of pure passion and pleasure.

“Just to taste that pretty pussy of yours on my tongue.”

Leon's voice pours into the phone, rich and sinful. You hear the front door open with a soft creak, the sound echoing through your body. He's finally home, his presence filling your senses with a heady aroma of musk and lust, a tantalizing potion that you can't resist.

He gazes at you with eyes like storm clouds brewing with desire. The air is thick with the scent of sex and your yearning, hanging in the dimly lit bedroom, resembling a heavy fog. You keep your gaze locked with his, transfixed as Leon strides in, his figure outlined by the glow of light seeping in from the hallway.

You don’t stop–

–instead, your fingers delve deeper. Nails grazing the tender walls, the slight discomfort only adding to the pleasure. Like a deer caught in headlines, your eyes stay on his.

The sound of your slickness echoes in the room as you thrust in and out, unconsciously matching the rhythm of Leon's steps – left in, right out, left in, right out – a dance of carnal desire.

And just like that, he stands on the side of the bed.

Leon’s eyes gleam with a fierce intensity. A perfect blend of predatory sensuality and effortless ease. With the grace of a pather; clad in a black henley shirt, the first two buttons undone, exposing the slight curve of his clavicles. It molds to his chiseled form as though it was a second skin, making Leon exude a primal magnetism that draws you closer to your high.

Spellbound by the scene in front of him – by you; fingers deep inside, eyes glazed over with orgasmic ecstasy as your work yourself to your high.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of your desire, a heady aroma that fills his senses with an overwhelming urge to indulge in your rapture.

He steps closer, placing one knee on the bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, but his gaze never leaves yours. It's as if you're the only person in the world that matters to him right now. The heat emanating from his body is palpable, and you feel your heart race as his presence commands the room.

“You enjoying yourself?”

His tone is low. A seductive purr sends a wave of electricity through your veins. Hot like molten lava. Dripping like honey, sweet and luscious. They linger in the air, coating everything around you with a sticky warmth.

His name leaves your lips in a deep sigh. Soft walls squeeze your fingers.

As he discards his fingerless gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity.

Leon’s arm flexes, the sinewy muscles bulging when put to work. Your eyes lock onto his, drinking in the raw masculinity and primal allure of his being. A contented moan escapes your lips, an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming sensuality of the moment.

“If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

His towering form casts a shadow over you as he leans closer. Lips so close you can almost taste the desire that emanated from him. The heat of his breath dances across your skin, making your senses swirl in a dizzying haze of lust; igniting a fire that burns with the intensity of Samson's strength.

“Wanna gimme a kiss?” he whispers, his lips almost brushing against yours. You’re still able to feel the soft graze of the plump skin atop of yours, sending a fluttering sensation to your heart.

You can't help but feel intoxicated by his voice, each word rolling off his tongue with a silky smoothness that sends shivers down your spine. It's almost like he's casting a spell, using his voice as a weapon to ensnare you in his grasp. And you willingly surrender, caught in the web of his honeyed words; like Delilah, powerless to his will, swept away by the power of his seduction.

Lips grazing his, you push your face upwards to be closer. The kiss is both gentle and fierce; a tantalizing dance of lips and tongues that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The taste of him a mix of mint and spice. You stop the movement of your wrist between your legs. Stilling, feeling the wet squeeze around your fingers, your mind becomes a blank canvas, a vast expanse of nothingness.

The taste of him lingers on your tongue as he pulls away. Thick fingers wrapping around your wrist, he nudges your fingers out of you. A displeased grunt leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness. Only to have your breath stop; watching as Leon brings your hand, fingers visibly sticky with your juices, tongue swirling around the tip of your index finger before taking two of the fingers in his mouth. It’s as if he’s tasting the forbidden fruit, savoring the flavor of your arousal like the sweetest nectar.

Feeling the wet tip of his tongue swirl around your fingers, you can’t help but let out a soft moan. The rough texture brushes over the pads of your fingers. Licking every drop of you off of your fingers, leaving them clean before he licks his own lips.

“Missed that taste.”

His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense with desire as he slowly releases your hand.

“Missed you almost that much too.”

His words wash over you like a warm embrace, seeping into your pores and settling deep within your bones. As his body moves over yours, his hands glide across the burning expanse of your skin, tracing patterns of passion that leave you breathless in anticipation. The soft touch of his lips on your navel sends ripples of pleasure through your body, each sensation building on the last until you're gasping for air.

Leon sinks to his knees at the end of the bed; his movements smooth and graceful. Years of never-ending training left him in full control of every muscle. Arms sliding underneath your knees, he holds you firmly as he grips your hips with unyielding strength.

A single tug. Confident in its prosecution. He brings you to the edge of the bed, your glistening cunt hovering in front of his face. The sight of him there, between your legs, both captivating and overwhelming.

The wet tip of his tongue peaks from within his kiss-bruised lips.

Before you know it, you’re completely undone. A mess. Leon's tongue turns your body into a temple of pleasure; his movements sinuous and calculated. With each flick and swirl of his tongue, he's coaxing you to heights of ecstasy.

His tongue traces every inch of your throbbing cunt, flicking and teasing your clit as you squirm beneath him, one hand grasping his soft hair while the other squeezes your breast. His fingers, thick and rough, plunge deep inside of you, finding all the right spots to drive you wild. Each thrust of his hand sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you moan and writhe with need.

"Such a fucking filthy little thing," he growls against your skin, the heat of his breath making you shiver. He devours you with his mouth and hands, taking you to the brink of ecstasy and back again; fingers scissoring and pumping, working you over until you're a quivering mess of desire.

The blunt pressure of the tips of his fingers pressing mildly against your inner walls sending pinnacles of bliss across your body until you’re mewling at the sharp pleasure that ripples down your spine.

You claw at the sheets, unable to control the waves of sensation that crash over you.

And then, with a final, shuddering gasp, you let yourself go, your body convulsing in waves of pure pleasure. Ecstasy; Leon’s name a sweetened melody on the tip of your tongue.

He stands up afterwards, a towering figure before your eyes. Your aching legs fall from his shoulders onto the bed. Leon looms over you, appearing almost god-like, a divine being sent to ravage you with its passion.

Disposing of his shirt, you lay on the bed motionless, senses on high and in anticipation as you watch the man strip. With every article of clothing that comes off, Leon’s body reveals itself in all its glory. Shoulders and chest sculptured, shaped by years of intense training. Someone who’s worked hard to achieve such a physique. Rippling muscles that flex with every movement he makes. His arms thick with veins and biceps that bulge with raw strength, capable of holding you up effortlessly. You can see every ridge of his abs, each one chiseled to perfection.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he rasps after ridding himself of the last article while you shamelessly stare at Leon’s sheer size and the strength of him.

“Very much,” you breathe out when he crawls on top of you.

His cock rests atop your stomach, heavy and pulsing with need; leaking as he marks you in his precum. Yet, neither of you moves. Unbothered, you remain locked in his gaze before his lips capture yours in a short passionate kiss. Drawn together by the irresistible pull of gravity, your lips meet in a collision of desire and longing.

Legs wrapping high around his waist, his hand leaves the side of your neck and travels the side of your body, igniting a trail of heat as it goes. Leon strokes the length of your thigh, only stopping when his fingers rest under your knee momentarily. Then you feel the blunt tip press against your aching cunt. The anticipation inside you unravels like a tightly wound spool, releasing a flood of sensations that spreads throughout your body.

“Ready?” he breathes out; his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against yours once again.

The silky texture of his hair brush against your fingertips. Legs tightening around his upper body, you pull him closer to you. “Yeah.”

The pressure against your throbbing cunt intensifies as Leon presses forward. The crown of his cock splits you open with ease, enveloping him. Welcoming him eagerly in your wet heat. As if he belongs there.

Leon’s touch’s electric, sending shivers down your spine as he claims you with each bite and kiss. His teeth graze your chin, softly nibbling at the skin as he lets out a guttural grunt. Keeping one hand on the side of your neck, possessive and tender, surely to feel the rapid pulse of your jugular vein, he hooks his thumb underneath your jaw and pushes upwards.

When your head is tilted upwards enough to his satisfaction, his lips latch on the front of your neck. Small, quick bites decorate the stretched skin. Followed by a wet kiss, he sucks on the skin. Vulnerable and exposed.

Moans cascade from your lips, an ode to his cock splitting you apart slowly. A divine intrusion into your depths, filling you.

He stills when he’s buried balls deep inside of you; bottoms out in your quivering walls, slick with post-orgasmic arousal.

The feeling of fullness, of being completely filled, is almost too much to bear. Your breath hitches in your throat, body trembling with pleasure as it strains to accommodate him; to make enough space to take him in.

Your eyes flatter shut as he waits, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hand cups the underside of your breast with his thumb teasing your nipple in a leisurely manner.

A moment of content falls between you. Bodies molded together; two halves of a whole.

After a few seconds, you press the sole of your feet into his skin, feeling the taunt muscle contract underneath you.

A subtle but unmistakable gesture. A wordless plea for more.

A fuck me of sorts.

Your body speaks volumes, a language he's learned to decipher. And with a low growl, he responds to your invitation. A low roll of his hips. A test of your readiness. It becomes a measured beat that tests your strength, the pressure of his cock firmly pressed against the walls of your cervix.

It has you sent into a harmonious frenzy.

Leon continues with the rhythm. Relishing in the tight squeeze of your cunt, in the way you sing for him, his name a sacred hymn on your lips. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure courses through you.

His hands sear a blazing trail on your burning flesh. Every touch feels as if he’s branding you, etching himself onto your skin.

The wetness of his lips causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. Moving like a reverent prayer. Worship of your body as his tongue swipes over your sensitive nipples.

Your name escapes his lips and is met with a low moan.

Tantalizing and peaceful.

Leon’s unhurried movements slowly transform into something more. Rough and hasty. Teeth nibbling at your jawline, feeling the bone underneath the skin, your nails bite into the tight muscle of his shoulder blades. Surely to leave indents that will bloom into bruises and marks. Your back arch, offering yourself up to him as you focus on meeting his thrusts.

As his hand wanders down the length of your body, his fingers dance along the curves of your waist and hips before grazing the globes of your ass; giving it a rough squeeze before wrapping his fingers under your knee and pulling away from your neck.

Meanwhile, his other hand braces his body weight by your face. Leon’s fingers entwine around your ankle. Pushing your leg up and over his shoulder, you moan over the painful stretch of your hamstring as he gazes at you.

He moves with a frenzied urgency. Lowering himself to rest on his elbows, his fingers find their way to your clit.

The way he flicks over the sensitive nub elicits a series of moans and cries from you only to be silenced by his lips crashing onto yours.

The kiss is wet and messy. Hungry. Both of you eager to take and dominate, his tongue dancing with yours in a frenzied manner.

It's like he's a man possessed, lost in the rhythm of his movements and the feel of your body beneath him. You writhe and moan, lost in a haze of sensation and desire as he takes you higher towards that ultimate release. That sweet orgasm. Every motion is a symphony, a perfect blend of power and finesse, as he explores the contours of your body with a deep hunger.

Mind becoming blurry, your senses are consumed by the raw, primal desire Leon elicits with his thrusts. Moving to brace himself better, it feels impossible when you feel the blunt pressure hit even deeper than before. Gasping, you move your hips, trying to take him as deep as possible.

The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, and you can hear the sound of skin slapping against the skin as Leon moves with increasing speed and intensity. His determination to tear you apart only grows each time your hips meet, sending bolts of electricity throughout your every cell. His thumb flicks over your clit, applying pressure and circling the aching bud until you’re quivering underneath the mass of a man above you. Inside you.

The sound of his grunts and moans blends into a symphony of pleasure, each note building up the tension within you. You feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption, bubbling with molten passion until it finally snaps. Erupts.

A tidal wave of pleasure washes over you. Sweeping you in a vortex of delight. A thousand stars explode in your mind, each one brighter than the last, painting your vision with vibrant colors. Your body convulses, spasming in rhythm with the waves of pleasure that ripple through you.

Gasps leave your lips. Desperate for air, you cling to Leon, whose thrusts never wavered. Whose fingers continue to tease your clit, now throbbing and exploding with sensitivity. His eyes lock on yours, lips parted with low moans escaping from between before you bring his face down to you, swallowing each cry of pleasure but eventually, he pulls away.

You watch as Leon’s eyes snap shut, brows furrowing in pleasure as he stills. His full length buried inside of your spasming cunt, filling you up with his cum.

Your body’s spent. Yet your mind’s still reeling from the sheer intensity as Leon remains buried inside; his breath ragged and uneven before he pulls out with measured slowness, teasing your oversensitive clit with a gentle tap. You shudder at the sensation of him trickling out of you.

“Hi.”

The simple word leaves your mouth in a breathless whisper. A mere welcome that was meant to be addressed when he first entered your home instead of now. A warmth spreads through your body, settling low in your belly as you take in the sight of him; the way his blond hair falls across his forehead, resembling a halo of an angel. Cheeks tinted in light pink and lips curved into a small smile as he looks at you.

“Hi.”

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bryngmemoney · 2 months

Text

SCREENSAVER

❝I guess you're not feelin' me..

..Not feelin' the energy ❞

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

🎮SUMMARY

Ryomen Sukuna, better recognized as ‘King of Curses’ is a growing name in the gaming industry. All though his most iconic aspect is his temper, it also tends to be his downfall outside entertainment purposes. After his last editor quit due to his ‘disrespectful ways’, he tries to handle everything by himself, soon learning that’s too much work he’s not willing to do. When he happens to stumble across your twitter, he decides to try his luck at hiring you. Let’s just hope you have the patience and durability to deal with him.

⍟ JJK influencers au ⍟ no curse au

⍟ updates every other day

🎮TWITTER PROFILES

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩ group chats ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ ﮩ٨ـﮩ

👥 masterminds 😈

👥 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 + y/n

👥 work 🖕

chapters below cut

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈⛧✩┈┈♛

▸ chapter 1:

▸ chapter 2:

▸ chapter 3:

…

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk influencer au #jjk au #jjk x y/n #jjk smau #smau #jjk sukuna

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narcissisticmf · 2 years

Text

instagram | chris sturniolo x fem!reader

description: what chris and y/n's instagrams look like during the halloween season.

trigger warnings: mostly fluff, crude humor, fake ig account users used, etc. read at you own risk.

word count: <1k

CHRISTOPHERSTURNIOLO

liked by matthew.sturniolo, alahna111 and 756,270 others

christophersturniolo Do you think I'm spooky?

view all 3,587 comments

yourinstagram no

liked by creator

↬ christophersturniolo You lie

matthew.sturniolo Nobody thinks you're spooky

liked by creator

↬ christophersturniolo Shut up, kid

sturnioloupdates is that y/n hiding behind you in the last photo?

liked by creator

mattisperfect omg i love this aesthetic

YOURINSTAGRAM

liked by sabquesada, christophersturniolo and 562,802 others

yourinstagram chris and i got lost in a corn maze

view all 2,368 comments

sturniolo_obsessed what did you guys do in there? 🫢

liked by creator

↬ yourinstagram 🤫

christophersturniolo Why didn't you tell me my hair was in my face in the second photo?

liked by creator

madifilipowicz why didn't you invite me? 🥺

liked by creator

chrishasmyheart Mom and dad

sturnioloupdates i ship it

a/n: hi, cuties!! i hope you enjoyed reading/viewing another one of these instagram things! they're so fun but also very time consuming for me to make and i have no idea why, but nonetheless i very much enjoy doing these! i hope your spooky season is going well, my loves. be safe and treat people with kindness! — angelina. <33

1K notes · View notes

goldenbuckyyy · 1 year

Text

HOLD ON

Summary: The aftermath of Harry finding you.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader (cheating together) Main characters x original characters.

Word Count: 4.1kish

Warnings: Cheating (Harry and Reader together), mentions of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AGAINST PARTNER, mentions of blood, bruising, and cuts.

A/N: IM BACK!! I am so so sorry it’s take me over a month to post this part! I can’t even believe it’s been that long. I got into a bad writing funk after my last post and spend the last two weeks just reading and not even writing truthfully. But, thank you everyone for your patience. I hope you all enjoy. REMEMBER TO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS!! Song inspo: “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet.

Um, I’ve also reached 1.2k of you lovely people following me. 🥹 ily all. Thank you!!

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

Series Masterlist || Masterlist

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more afraid.

He’s been afraid plenty of times in his life. More than he can count. He’s not ashamed to admit it.

He’s not ashamed to admit he’s felt fear before.

Off the top of his head, he was afraid for his judges response on the x factor stage, he was afraid for what was going to happen after they had lost, he was afraid when they went on hiatus, he was afraid when he went solo, he was afraid before he put out his first album, his second album, and most recently his third. He was afraid of many things.

But you were there for every single one.

And you calmed him down. You were his rock. His grounding statue when he most needed it.

Every single time he had been afraid in the past, you were his voice of reason, and it didn’t matter who was his partner at the time.

He knew you were going to be his wife one day.

He just knew it.

He was just too stupid to think you guys could ever be with anybody else. But you were happy with Asher and he was happy with Vivian.

Or he let himself believe he was happy with her.

Because you were happy.

But at the end of the day, when he laid in bed and held her. Smelling her expensive shampoo in her hair when they cuddled…

It always reminded him she wasn’t you.

But he toughed it out. Because you were happy. He loved seeing you happy. He could handle settling for second best if he still had you in his life and thankfully that was never an issue between you two.

Now, Harry feels like a complete fucking idiot.

Because if he had only made you his wife like he had wanted too, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

He wouldn’t be going over the speed limit in the London streets if he had. He wouldn’t be holding back his tears as he thinks of what you had just told him on the phone.

But who’s he kidding?

His eyes were full of tears, threatening to fall down his cheeks, swerving through cars, not caring if he got stopped right now, knowing he wouldn’t pull over, and his entire body was shaking.

His hands were gripping onto the steering wheel. So hard that it was almost painful, one hand was maneuvering the steering wheel, while his other hand was gripping onto his cross necklace on his chest. The same necklace that you had gifted him years ago.

You had told him you saw it at a jewelers shop one day and decided to get a matching pair. He’s worn it ever since.

His eyes dash to his cell phone that’s on the console, your name taunting him on the screen, and he keeps the call connected. Just in case you woke up.

Once Harry turned into your secluded street, his tires screeching at his fast movement, but he stepped on the gas pedal to go faster.

His heart was racing as he pulled into your stone driveway. He quickly parked his SUV, taking notice that only your car was in the driveway, and he felt his body fill with nerves as to what was going to await him inside.

With shaky hands and stumbling feet, he ran towards your front door. He instantly stilled at the front door, gulping down the lump in his throat as he reached for the handle, and pushed the door wide open. It was unlocked.

The house was earily quiet and it made his skin break out into goosebumps. Harry’s body was shaking in fear of seeing you, he quickened his pace, running down your long entrance hallway, and not knowing entirely where you were, he shouted your name.

Peering into the open rooms, trying to see if you were in the first opening of the living room, and he was getting anxious when he didn’t see you.

He ran down towards the second opening of the hallway which was your kitchen and instantly his feet skidded to a halt. His feet screeching against your marbled floor.

Harry gasped loudly at the scene in front of him, a wrenching surprising sob wrecked through his body as his eyes scanned the kitchen layout, and he felt pale.

It looked like a bloody crime scene here.

Bright red liquid splattered over the white marble floors and cabinets. He could see it all over on the countertops, against the wall, and on the kitchen stove. Glass was everywhere that his eyes could see.

And then he saw you.

Another loud uncontrollable sob wrecked through his body as he ran towards you, falling down to the floor next to your unconscious body, not caring about the glass breaking his skin, his hands immediately reaching for you, pulling you into his body, and he tried to shake you awake.

Rapid tears fall down his cheeks immediately, his entire body is shaking with his sobs, his vision is cloudy, and he pulls you into his lap. He wraps one of his arms around your body and uses his free hand to move your hair away from your face.

He keeps repeating sun and baby over and over again. Hoping you’d hear him somehow. Hoping you’d open your pretty eyes for him.

His eyes take in your bloody nose, busted lip, your favorite lavender sweater is coated with blood in different spots, and same as your apron. He notices your limp hands have glass in different places, your leggings are black but he can see different areas with small shards of glass on them. And your feet. Your poor blue fuzzy socks are drenched in red. He’s not sure if it’s wine or blood.

His eyes move back to your face and he stills when he sees the hand marks on your neck. The fresh ugly bruises that are showing up. He looks up into the air, releasing a shaky breath, gritting his teeth as tears flow down his face, and he curses underneath his breath.

Harry is physically shaking with anger and guilt. He’s so upset at what Asher did to you. He feels like he can kill him, but he shoves that feeling away and focuses on you.

He doesn’t care that he’s getting himself covered in wine and blood right now. His free hand has specs of your blood on it now, but he keeps wiping away the hair and blood from your face.

Repeating “baby” to your face and kissing your face to wake you up. The metallic taste on his tongue makes him whimper.

“Hold on, baby. Just hold on.”

His voice is shaky, weak, and desperate.

So fucking desperate.

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re not reacting to anything he does, but thankfully you’re breathing. He has no idea what Asher did to you, but whatever he did. He’s going to pay for what he did.

Harry notices your phone next to you. He takes a shaky breath in and wraps his arms around you to pick you up. He reaches for your phone as he lifts you, tucks your limp body into his arms, sniffs hard to try and hold in the rest of his tears, and hastily makes his way towards his SUV.

He manages to open his back door and gently sets you down on the seats. He kisses your forehead with shaky lips and whispers, “It’s going to be okay. I-I’m here, sun.”

He drives towards the nearest hospital and prays to god that he hasn’t been followed by paps.

The entire drive to the hospital is rapid with his eyes constantly moving to the rear view mirror to look at you. To make sure you’re still there. To make sure you’re breathing.

Harry doesn’t hesitate to park in the “no parking” zone at the emergency entrance, he immediately starts honking to try and catch someone’s attention from inside. He sees a security guard immediately come toward him and Harry knows he must look crazy.

He jumps out of his driver seat, reaching for the back door to pull it open.

“I need you to get me some help!” The security officer is trying to flag someone from the inside to come and help him.

The officer looks at him in confusion, “Are you hurt, sir?” The office raises his eyebrows at his appearance.

Harry shakes his head, quickly pulling you into him once more, he hitches you up in his arms, and starts walking towards the entrance.

“It’s for her,” he says as he continues to walk into the ER entrance and immediately he can feel all eyes on him.

He ignores the stares, yells at the officer to help him, and starts feeling anxious. And he follows the officer when he opens a back door that leads him to where he assumes all the nurses and doctors are.

He can see different people running around, helping patients, and it’s incredibly loud. Loud beeping noises and chatter fills his ears. His mouth feels dry and he feels sick.

He looks at you in his arms, a soft whimper escapes his lips, and the officer brings him towards a ground of huddles nurses that are chatting about something.

One of them is smiling at another nurse and when her blue eyes met Harry’s, she instantly stops, mouth drops, and Harry can see her lips whisper his name in shock.

But then she suddenly reacts and rushes towards him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” She asks, her hands immediately reaching out to touch you, and Harry’s reflex is to curl you into his arms. Away from her touch. He’s terrified to let anybody touch you, but he knows you need it.

“I…” Harry starts, throat raspy, and he holds eye contact with the nurse, “I need your utmost discretion,” he states in a plea, but tries to keep his voice steady.

Harry sees from the corner of his eyes more nurses rushing towards him and one of them is holding a stretcher.

A male nurse tries to reach for you as well, but the nurse in front of you- Harry quickly reads her name tag- Lily.

Lily holds her hand up to stop the male nurse and she then sets her hand on Harry’s forearm, giving him a squeeze, her eyes not leaving his, and she says, “I promise you. We will be discreet.”

Harry nods, tears welling up in his eyes, and his hands are gripping onto your skin.

“But… you need to put her down on the stretcher.. so we can help her. Okay? Can you do that, sir?“

Lily moves her body to angle the stretcher and Harry quickly nods. He walks towards the stretcher, he gently sets you down, and squeezes your hands in his quickly. His shaking fingers move the sticky hair out of your face as you fall limp into the stretcher. He steps back.

Harry stands there, frozen in his spot, and watches them rush you away to an empty room.

“I’ll take you to a private room where you can wait for the doctor. Or myself for an update, okay?”

Harry nods as he follows her down a hallway, he starts messing with the skin around his fingernails, and Lily opens the door to a private room.

“You can wait here. Somebody will come speak to you soon about what happened, okay? Do you need any medical attention yourself?” Her voice is steady and calm. It’s what Harry needs right now. Her eyes look him up and down for any injuries.

“I’m okay, maybe… maybe just a wet rag, please.” Harry says, dry tears on his cheeks making his face feel stiff, and he keeps eye contact with Lily.

“Okay,” she says. She’s standing by the door, gives him a small smile, and then reaches out for Harry’s arm. She squeezes him.

“It's going to be okay, Mr. Styles. We got her now.” Her eyes are sincere and Harry’s face crumbles in anguish.

“Thank you,” he croaks out, covering his face, and turning away from her view.

He hears the door shut behind him and the only thing he can hear in the room is his soft cries.

•••

Harry must have fallen asleep after he had gotten himself cleaned up because he almost jumps out of the chair he was slumped into when he feels someone touch his shoulder.

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” He hears someone exclaim above him. He adjusts himself into the chair, uncrossing his arms, and is confused about his surroundings for just a second before he sees your face in his mind.

He stands quickly, “How is she?” He quickly runs his hands over his eyes to wake himself up.

He recognizes the same nurse as earlier, Lily, and she gives him an easy smile.

“She’s okay right now. A slight brain bleed, but nothing major. Don’t panic. It’ll heal on its own, but we’re going to keep her overnight to monitor it. Thankfully no broken bones. She does have a couple fractured ribs, but…” she trails off, her eyes looking to the side, and she looks nervous.

“What’s going on?” His body fills with worry instantly.

“She woke up, Mr. Styles.”

Relief washes throughout his body and he silently says a thank you.

“Oh, thank god. That’s good… that’s good, right?” Eyebrows furr when Lily nods, but doesn’t follow Harry’s breath of happiness. For a split second, he feels happy that she's awake and okay. But then Lily is rolling her lips in and biting the bottom one.

“What’s going on?” Harry asks. His voice shakes. The anticipation of what she’s about to say fills him with dread once more.

“Mr. Styles, we asked her what happened and she doesn’t remember. She might have a concussion or she might be blocking out the memory because of the trauma. She simply might not want to remember. It’s a way trauma victims protect themselves in these types of scenarios. It’s not uncommon.”

“O-okay?”

Lily puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to comfort him for what she’s about to say. Harry feels confused as the comforting touch. He fumbles with the skin around his fingers in anticipation.

“She states that her boyfriend would never have done this.”

“W-what? She— wait— she said that?” Harry feels even more confused. He wasn’t imagining the phone call. He distinctly remembers what you had said.

Lily nods as he continues, “S-she told me. She told me that he hit her. That he—-“ he stops himself from continuing. Gulping down the forming lump in his throat. He bites his tongue because he doesn’t need anybody knowing about his personal business.

Harry slightly looks up to keep his tears at bay, sniffling slightly, and his eyes start to burn. He looks back down at Lily.

“He found out about something… something she didn’t want him knowing and that’s when he did that to her. I-I swear.”

“Mr. Styles, I’m sorry. But… If the patient says that’s not what happened.. then we have to believe the patient.” She almost looks guilty.

“Even if she doesn’t remember it happening?” Harry asks in desperation, not believing what she’s saying.

Lily nods with a small frown on her lips.

“I can take you to see her, if you’d like.”

Harry immediately nods and follows her down to your room. Lily knocks when they stand in front of the room and when Harry walks in, his lips quiver and his heart feels heavy.

“Oh, baby.” He whimpers out as he takes in your appearance. He manages to grasp onto the door to ground himself from the way his knees buckle at the sight of you. They’ve cleaned you up, but all the bruising from your face and neck makes him wish it was him in the bed instead of you.

You're laying down against the hospital bed, covered in a white blanket, with your head tilted back, but it only showcased the ugly, raw, and red marks on your neck. It made Harry internally weep at the sight. You have a machine on your right side connected to your IV and Harry can only imagine its fluids. Or maybe pain medication. He doesn’t dwell on it too long.

Your arms are laying over the blankets and resting on your stomach. Your hands are delicately covered in white gauze, but only your palms. And he knows it’s because of all the tiny glass cuts you had.

When his eyes land in your face, he wishes he could erase this picture from his brain. He pleads to the gods above that this is the last time he will ever see you hurt. He doesn’t think he can survive seeing you like this again.

Your bottom lip has a big cut on it which is making your lip a little swollen. Your entire right cheek is bright red with undertones of purples and you have one big bruise forming on your left cheekbone. Your nose has a small splint on it, but he can see the swelling underneath and the bruising on the sides.

Harry doesn’t even want to think about what you went through.

It’s almost as if you felt his presence because you slowly tilt your head down and your eyes search the room. When you meet his gaze, your entire body relaxes with relief and his name falls out of your lips like butter.

Harry is immediately at your side, wanting to hold you and touch you, but he stops himself. He hesitates in front of you and your covered hand reaches for him. His hand immediately covers yours, warm with gauze but cold fingers, and he starts crying.

“I-I,” Harry tries to form words, but his voice is muffled because of his sobs. He falls into the chair next to you and covers his face with his arms on top of the bed.

Your hand is immediately intertwined with his curls and you're rubbing his scalp to try to calm him down.

“They told me you found me?” You question and he cries harder at your voice. It’s raspy and hoarse. You don’t sound like yourself, you sound like you’re in pain, and he knows you are. It makes him cry even harder.

Harry can only nod at your question. He lifts his head to look at you and you try to give him a small smile. He’s looking into your eyes, your beautiful eyes, and he sniffles.

He ghosts one of his hands over your face and you almost want to melt into it, but you don’t. Because you know how bad you look and how every single part of your body hurts right now.

Instead, you grab his hand in yours once again.

“I’m okay,” you whisper with tears in your own eyes as you watch his red eyes. His green eyes are bright against the red, his nose is red too, cheeks are flushed, lips bright pink, and he looks beautiful.

“Do you remember anything?” Harry asks between his sniffles.

You roll your lips inside your mouth for a second and bite down on your unaffected side, eyebrows furred down, and you shake your head.

“I… I don’t. I’m… I’m assuming someone broke in? Maybe someone tried to steal from me and did this?” Your voice sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself this is what happened. Instead of the reality that Harry knows about.

“Baby,” Harry whimpers out. “You called me… and told me Asher had found out about us.”

“Asher?” You question in a low tone, feeling confused once again.

“You… you said he hit you.” Harry gulps down the lump in his throat after he speaks those words and takes in your reaction.

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. Frowning, you exclaim, “Hit me?! Asher would never, Harry.”

Suddenly, you’re pulling your hand out of his hold and Harry feels like you’re retracting from him.

“Baby, I wouldn’t lie—-“

“Stop it!” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest, ignoring the sharp pain that runs through your body as you touch your aching ribs.

His eyes dart to your stomach and back to you.

“Are you—“

“Stop.” You spat at him, feeling furious at him for even suggesting that Asher would do this to you. Asher would never do this. Never.

“Asher would never do this to me, Harry. Are you—- what are you— are you lying to me? Is this a joke? Is this some sick fucking joke? Maybe I did this to myself!! I’m fucking clumsy. I’m sure I just fell on my own. Maybe I dropped the wine bottle myself and tripped and hurt myself!” You cry out to him as fast tears start running down your cheeks. Your mouth speaks faster than your own brain. Spilling anything that would make more sense than what Harry is telling you.

“Baby. Baby. Baby.. what are you.. what are you saying? Baby, stop. He caused your head to bleed. He caused you a brain bleed, baby. You.. you didn’t do this to yourself. How could.. how could you have done this to yourself?” Harry cries as he stumbles over his words quickly at you.

“Asher didn’t do this to me,” you state confidently even though you feel confused about the whole thing. “Why would he do this to me, H?” More tears filling your eyes at Harry’s accusations.

Asher didn’t do this to you. He couldn’t have. Could he?

“He did this to you! He hit you!” His voice goes higher as his frustrations rise, his lips in a frown.

“You’re lying!! Stop lying to me. Why would Asher do this to me, Harry?! He loves me. And I know you love me. You’re my best fucking friend, but you’re crossing a line. He would never do this to me. You need to leave. You’re lying to me. I don’t want you here.”

“W-what?” Harry’s gaping at you, mouth dropped in shock, and a sob escapes his lips once more.

“Go. Now! I don’t want to look at you!” You turn away from him, sniffling, and wiping your tears away.

“You can’t be serious, Y/N. Listen to yourself,” he tries to plead with you as he tries to reach for your hand, but you turn your body to move. Ignoring the pain it causes you. You don’t look at him.

“Leave,” you demand once more. Ignoring his cries and his words.

“O-okay, baby. I’m going to leave. But… but… please. Please try to remember my love. Please,” he begs you.

You don’t say anything. You just stare out the window until you hear him get up and leave. You sit in silence for a couple minutes. Trying to think about everything he said. You wipe away your tears and reach for the call light to call for your nurse.

You press the red button and adjust yourself to relax against the mattress, trying to inhale a deep breath, and Lily comes into the room.

“Hi, love. Did you call? Need some help?”

“Yes, Lily. I did. Harry gave you my phone, right?”

“He did.”

“Okay,” you make eye contact with her. “Can you please call the person under the name of Asher? Can you let him know what’s happened and where I am? The code is 0509.”

A look of uncertainty flashes over Lily’s face, but she quickly controls her reaction. You don’t question it because she nods quickly right after.

“Of course, Mrs. Y/L/N.” She smiles at you, “I’ll be right back.”

Lily leaves the room and you close your eyes for a second.

You try to unclear your mind, trying to remember what happened, and flashes of what happened play out.

You see the wine bottle falling down onto the floor loudly.

You see yourself crawling into the corner and the feeling of true terror fills your body at the memory.

You can see yourself begging the person to stop, but you can’t see their face.

Your face crumbles in frustration at not being able to remember the one most important detail.

You sigh, opening your eyes, and you decide to wait for Asher to walk through the door.

Maybe he can help you remember. Maybe he’s spoken to the police and maybe they’ve already found the person who did this.

But there’s also a part of you wondering why he isn’t here right now. Wouldn’t he have found you after coming home from work? Maybe he had to work late.

You shake your head at the intrusive thoughts.

You try to relax once again, trying not to feel bad for kicking Harry out, but you know Asher would have never done this to you.

He would have never.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #Harry styles x influencer!reader #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #illicitaffairsau #Harry styles imagine #Harry styles fic rec #Harry styles cheater #cheater!harry styles

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇 • 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓

synopsis: after sharing a night of passion, (y/n) and EJ aren’t so apt to part ways and return to reality. But the two share one more moment together before doing so. Meanwhile, (y/n) reflects on her goals and what it is she hopes to accomplish in this industry. Reassuring not only herself but her crew that her priorities like strictly in Pole Assassins after they confront her at dinner about her strange absence from dinner. Meanwhile, EJ returns home, motivated as ever and ready to work..only to find that someone’s been defaming him, leading to harassment by the media and even some potential legal troubles for the rapper. But will he be able to stomach the truth behind who started such a rumor mill or will it shatter his already fragile trust?

content warning: mature/heavy language, light smut, mentions of drugs, substance abuse and alcohol, sexual content, mentions of violence

word count: 7.9K

📝: I want to thank all of you so so much for the love on the last chapter and your patience. I know I took forever but I’m honestly in no rush to finish this series. However, I’ll be back to regular uploads soon.

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sunshine peered through the cream colored curtains of the fourth floor suite where (y/n) and your unexpected guest had spent the better part of yesterday evening and the early morning hours..making love until dawn reached the horizon. The entire room; a disheveled mess of clothes, bedsheets, alcohol and your bodily fluids. The result of filthy, unadulterated, rough sex. Taking you from the bed, the front of the mirror where he forced you to stare at yourself getting those deep strokes to the shower, where you let the cascading water drench your bodies as you exchanged slow tongue kisses. What transpired was something neither of you expected nor did you think would’ve taken place this soon. It was only weeks ago that you were backstage at the club, complete strangers and nothing more. Pacing the floor as you mentally prepared yourself to go hype up a crowd of thousands of strangers. Nervous because not only was it your first time but you were doing so alongside a man that you had admired for years. One of the only handful of celebrities that caused you to be awestruck and that managed to make you swoon. And intimidated you all the same! EJ the Don was a name synonymous with being less than friendly. He was very selective about who he allowed into his energy and it was safe to say that ninety five percent of the industry didn’t make the cut. He hated agendas and politicking. You, of course, were not expecting to be a part of the select few that he’d rock with. Especially when he gave you friendly advice about how to navigate life in the limelight and how to get through the event.

“Well for one, you can start by not treating me like some type of god. I’m just some regular motherfucker that happens to make music. I promise, you don’t have to tiptoe around me. Second, you got picked for this job, didn’t you? So that means you did something right because if I know anything about Mikasa, she doesn’t hire just anyone when her reputation is on the line..stop stressing and be yourself.”

it was the very first time since you had begun to intermesh in these circles that you had heard someone dismiss their fame, especially someone with his notoriety. He was so smooth with how he uttered it too. Most of these people threw their names around as if it were currency and it’d afford them every luxury they wanted. Not him! He didn’t want to be seen as some snobby, famed personality that not even his peers couldn’t even approach. You were so worried that he’d feel like working with you would be beneath him but not even close. “You smoke, sweetheart? I feel like you could use a puff or two.” He was funny, charming and super sweet. Naturally, you’d take a hit and it was up from there. “Trust me, it’s the only way I’ll be able to go out here and do this. I’ll let you in on a secret that not everyone knows about me. I have social anxiety like a bitch..may not look it but I hate being around all these people. Makes me nervous..even after all this time. My first performance? I ended getting so sick, I almost had to call it off..” Telling you as if the two of you had known each other for years. “Guess that makes two of us, huh?” As honored as you were, you didn’t understand why. It wasn’t if you could go reference interviews with the man and find out these tidbits of information. Although it was apparent by the way his right leg kept jumping as time approached. But he could’ve fooled you when he hit the stage. Completely different person and a grade A performer..so much energy and charisma, you were thrilled to be watching. Not to mention when he pulled you on the stage and crooned to you. Singing the lyrics to one of his sexiest songs. Tipping your chin up and singing to you like a man to his lover. You nearly fell apart..fast forward almost a month and it would seem he somewhat manifested it. The whole thing was sort of impromptu but even so…

“..Mmm, good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning to you too..”

you were so happy that it took place!

swaddled up in the disheveled sheets, you’d roll over and glide a hand over Eren’s muscular chest..riddled with various pieces of inked artwork. His arm cradled around your shoulders and his lips pressed to yours. It was as if the two of you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. An attraction that neither of you had felt towards anyone in a long time. Normally, he’d be gone before the girl could even wake up or send her on her way the night prior with an Uber and enough cash for a Plan B if needed. He didn’t really do hookups all that often nor had he been with anyone who made him want to stick around..less known fly out to be with them. It was something about you that had him stuck. You were so cold, raw as hell and quite honestly..the finest woman he had ever been with. And him? No man had ever managed to get you out of your clothes that fast. The way he put that dick on you, you were five seconds from telling him he had to stay. Not to mention how fine and sweet he was! Your inbox hasn't stopped blowing up with threats of fighting you because this man camped out in your comments nowadays. Playfully flirting, knowing that it was all one big joke between the two of you. Maybe that’s why it all happened so suddenly. Your makeout session ensued for a little while; even finding yourself on top of him as he caressed your back, rubbing on your ass and feeling every inch of your skin. Not wanting it to end as he longed for the touch of a woman whom he could feel comfortable with for so long. He hadn’t been this relaxed since he’d been in the industry and it would be almost ten years. Which was sad when he thought about it. Regardless, he knew he couldn’t let his guard down entirely. This game was a funny thing and even if you wouldn’t run your mouth, he knew plenty that would..which would become a huge headache. All it took in this town was one bad photo opp or word of mouth to spread like wildfire and your business was front street on Twitter. The main reason why he stayed to himself is that when he popped out. Especially with a new chick on his arm, then the focus and conversation left his music and the poor girl had to endure harassment. When they may have been nothing more than acquaintances at best. It was irksome, for both parties. For him, his craft meant everything to him and nothing could stand between that. Not even the baddest bitch on the internet and you were definitely holding the title. As it stood, the two of you had no plans to make things official or even start dating. Hell, you didn’t even know if the feelings and emotions were there for that. But you did want to keep..whatever this was going for a little while longer. A warm smile cracked across Eren’s lips whilst yours hovered above them. “You keep doing that, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave.” And honestly, it was just fine with you. He could stay here and stay in it as long as he desired. “Who said you had to?” Nothing like waking up to a little lazy fucking. Mumbling against your lips, he’d whisper to you..asking if you wanted to put it back in and by the wide grin on your face, it was obvious. So with a firm grip on your asscheeks, he’d hoist you up and place you back down atop his dick. Subtly nestling it inside of your warmth. Both of you, moaning at the sensation. Releasing a collective “oh my gosh..” unable to believe that this was all taking place so suddenly. “You feel so good..” Even so, it was a moment that you didn’t want to end so soon. You weren’t ready for your dream to be over in just a flash. Draping your clasped arms around his neck and his to the small of your back, you’d make love yet again with the freshly risen sunshine falling cast over your bodies. Kissing, touching, gripping on every inch of each other’s flesh. Drinking it in. Soaking in each other’s scent.. “Don’t stop, baby..right there.” “Just like that..” riding him clean to another climax and although this was the most fun that either of you had had in a very long time, your conscience couldn’t help but to rear its ugly head..

this isn’t right..God, I know I’m not supposed to be here. Doing this..with him. With a man I barely know. It’s not like me. Not even remotely close. I don’t do one night stands and random hookups..letting a man get this pussy that I can’t even say ‘I love you’ to? Fuck no. I don’t remember the last time I’ve let a man near me be less known, inside of me. Hell, my friends might say I play it too safe, even a little boring. But even so, I wanted–no, scratch that. I needed him. Needed him to tell me I was beautiful, that I felt better than anyone he had ever been with..saying the things that no one’s ever told me. Am I wrong? Does that make me a bad person? Am I terrible for wanting to have my cake and eat it too? To work hard and play as well? I’m working so hard in my career, trying to make this all work. Dancing, this social media shit..I want to win so bad. But I want to live too..I want to enjoy the process while I’m in it. Is that too much to ask for?

all questions you’d have to sit and ponder on at a later date because at the moment , you were being thrust up and down, his face between your breasts as he popped them in and out of his mouth. Giggling and whimpering into his ear with light huffs escaping your mouth as well. Your eyes lazily fixated on one another before he interrupted the kiss. “Why’d you quit?” to which he’d snicker, smirking as he looked down at the bed; still clutching you by the hips..close within his grasp. “Cause I’m a hypocrite, that’s why..” reluctantly shoving your smaller frame back with a gentle press. “Shit..I’m sorry, (y/n).” Suddenly, you could feel your heart descend to the pit of your stomach. Were you about to hear the dreaded words that you’d hope to never be uttered? That this was all a one night rendezvous but he had to go? That he had only come for a quick nut but he was leaving? Alas, you’d have your answer soon. And it was neither the former nor the latter. But instead..

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I talked all that shit about how much I respected your work ethic..grind and shit. How you didn’t choose that bullshit over your bag. Now here I am taking you from that…” admitting with a muffled groan into your collarbone. Placing your hands to his shoulder blades, you’d glare up at EJ, glancing at him before bursting into laughter. You didn’t mean to but you truly couldn’t help it when you saw the look on his face.

“Sorry for what? It’s not like I turned you away at the door, and told you to get the fuck out. As you can see, I’m enjoying myself very..very much.” Declaring as you traced a trail down his bare chest whilst leaving a soft peck to his lips. “I am too..” obviously smitten and staring dumbfounded at your body as your hands traced his torso. “Actually, it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. It’s something different ‘bout you. I swear..” words that normally would’ve meant nothing when a man uttered them. Hell, they should’ve meant nothing coming from him and yet, your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little. “Forreal?” “Shit, you think I’d come all the way out here for just anybody? You haven’t stayed off my mind since I met you..” Still, it wasn’t safe to get ahead of yourself. Rather, it was best to play it cool and just take things slow. So that’s when EJ devised an ideal plan..

“Tell you what. Imma be in Houston for a few more days..you go handle your business. I know your girls are prolly worried sick. I got some things to take care of out here myself. When you’re done, you know where to find me. Sound good?” Although the last thing you wanted to do right now was leave this bed, less known this room, he was right. You guys were working professionals with soaring careers and a lot of responsibility. It was only the heat of the moment and your hormones that had you being this reckless but it was time to get yourselves together. Reluctantly lifting you off of his lap, Eren set you by his side, but not without leaving you with a few passionate kisses to get through the day. When he withdrew on the last one, he’d tug your bottom lip along with him, gently between his teeth as your palms resided on his cheek. “You promise?” “Swear.” With that, the two of you would prepare to head out for the day. You, going to the shower to cleanse yourself of last night and the morning’s activities. And him to his respective room, that was on the floor above yours. It was the only way to ensure that you didn’t find yourselves entangled in the web of lust yet again. “Have a good day, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” “Byeee.” So getting out undetected might have been a task in itself. So he’d grab his hoodie, sweats and a hat, hoping to evade anyone wanting to strike up a conversation or snap a couple involuntary candids of the rapper. Truth was, EJ The Don had something that many stars today didn't and that was a true sense of celebrity. Not so much being a diva or putting himself on a pedestal, because he was humble as fuck and super down to earth if you ever met him, but in the way of him not broadcasting his business for the world to see. He didn’t want his privacy invaded. So in the event of some seedy journalist seeing him leave someone else’s hotel room, looking disheveled and crazy, chatter was sure to fly. For now, he had to let you go and deal with some loose ends of his own. He had a homeboy out here needing some mixing and mastering done for his new project and who else better to have their stamp on it than Eren himself. Besides, it’d provide the perfect distraction and keep him occupied. Music was the one thing he always counted on to be consistent and that he never had to worry about being disappointed by. Something people did all too often and he honestly hoped you were different.

once you were finally alone though, you’d find yourself releasing a heavy sigh as you leaned against the door. You couldn’t help but to feel a little flustered and annoying at the fact that you were almost two seconds from pouting and begging this man to stay. It was a little embarrassing even. Nonetheless, he was right. Time to get back to business. And not a moment too soon. Because your phone was ablaze with texts from the group chat, missed calls and an incoming voice message from Ms. Ackerman. You had a gig tonight and that you couldn’t miss for anyone, including EJ! This very well may have been the biggest artist that the Pole Assassins as a collective have performed for. Not to mention, you getting the opportunity to be a host again so there were many different things to look forward to. But that sentiment couldn’t be mirrored by the woman who oversaw both of your careers. In fact, to say she was aggravated..not by you but her oldest client, would have to be a very gross understatement! But she all but had a plan to ignite a fire underneath the stubborn brat. The one thing she could always count on to get him moving was a question of his talent and a little competition.

while the two of you were making arrangements to go to rehearsal and to the studio, Mikasa was currently working behind the scenes on a master plan to make him get his ass back in the booth and put out something that would have everyone from die hard fans to habitual haters alike talking. Sitting in the backseat of her chauffeured car, the executive manager tapped away at her phone..eventually forming a wide smile across her face. Eventually, breaking into a laugh. “You know, the devil works hard..but goddamnit, Annie Leonhart. You work faster. If this doesn’t spark something in him, I don’t know what will.” Glaring down at the phone, a bold printed headline read: “Fans Disappointed After Rolling Loud Headliner Set, Rapper Sparks Online Debate.”

followed by a puffed up piece that went on to say: ‘Rapper EJ The Don, infamously known as the Underground God, his Living Dead Boy l and ll albums, as well as his dark and mysterious aesthetic, along with his outspoken personality that have captivated many. An artist branding himself on being anti industry and not adhering to any of the typical rules and politics, his music and personality have gripped millions. But adoring fans, both old and new, couldn't help but to be left with a bitter taste in their mouths amid the final and headlining act of Miami’s biggest night in music. Appearing as a surprise guest not even listed on the docket. Even so, the crowd saw an influx of attendees and morale once EJ made his way to the stage. Where many would be thinning out and departing for the evening, a plethora of spectators remained for the long awaited show. However, many were left wondering not only if he wanted to be there but if his heart was in the performance at all. Although the highly acclaimed artist does not partake in social media himself, many fans took to Twitter to refute the claims of bored crowds and silence..even sharing personal videos of the performance to prove that everyone was on their feet for their favorite artist. One user became extremely defensive and posted: @dollofgrey: THEE EJ the Don? Boring? Yeah u bitches are smoking dick. The crowd was going stupid the whole time. Don’t play w him.” posting footage of him head banging and inciting huge mosh pits during some of his more hype songs. Others, however..said the rapper seemed to be so jaded while on stage and thus began speculation as to why. Also sparking debate of how male performers are often given far more grace than their female counterparts in terms of performance standards. Rumors have been circulating recently that the twenty five year old had been hospitalized due to exhaustion and heart complications. Which made many arrive at the conclusion of substance abuse or chronic illness, although nothing has been confirmed. With the lack of interaction with his nearly over one million fans, much is expected to remain a mystery. But one thing is for certain: many potential and diehard supporters have grown weary, waiting for news of a new project, especially with his last one nearing its fourth anniversary. Will he step up and refute these claims, once again proving naysayers wrong? Or has The Don’s time on the throne come to an end?’

a very short, simple..yet, super loaded article full of interesting and quite frankly false statements. Ones that as his publicist, Mikasa had no interest in clearing up. If he wanted to repair his reputation, he’d have to do so himself with his talents. However, others were apprehensive of her methods. Including her very own assistant, who was in the process of organizing her boss’ next set of meetings into her planner when she couldn’t help but spot the deviant look on the dark haired woman’s face. “Ms. Ackerman. I don’t mean any disrespect but are you sure this is the right thing ta’ do? I mean, I thought you were supposed to help his reputation. Wouldn’t this hurt it?” To which she’d merely laugh and continue tapping away at her screen. “Oh Sasha. My sweet, little lamb. You have much to learn about this business and the people in it.” Amid her speech, Mikasa would reach over for her martini and stir the glass before crossing her slender legs and proceeding with her speech. “You see, I have over fifty different artists I manage in a day. Some..they’re fairly easy to deal with. Give ‘em a gig and they’ll take it. Whether it’s some no name festival in the middle of nowhere or Glastonbury..they’re on time, punctual and performing as if their lives depend on it. Even if the crowd isn’t as receptive. They work hard to build their brand and maintain good standing with the agency so that when their big break does come, we can put all the necessary power behind them to make sure they succeed. Then there’s the ones who are a little further along in their journey. Been doing it for a while and maybe they just need some time to get back into the swing of things. They may be working on projects or wanting to dabble into different things, helping artists who may just be starting out..that’s perfectly fine. We love to see that type of mentorship. My fiancé Jean, he’s sort of stuck in that limbo right now. He’s one of, if not the best song writers I’ve ever seen so while he works on his new album and our wedding, of course..he’s taken sort of a step back and decided to lend his support to others..I couldn’t ask for a better client and husband.” Sasha Braus, twenty three year old small town girl from Kentucky with dreams of becoming a big time manager herself. Although she and Mikasa were not too far off in age, she truly admired her from her early days on stage to her shift in media presence now. A young woman with such poise and intelligence..it was something to behold for sure. But as she continued to talk, still circling the perimeter of her glass, Sasha couldn’t help but notice how tight her superior was clutching the stem of it once she got to her final part of her little monologue. As did her expression shift; her lip curling and veins protruding from the side of her head.

“…And then..there are special cases. Ones that require a bit more of a push. These are the ones that have a very..individualistic approach to the way they do things. Meaning they act as they damn well please and never think about the consequences it may cause others. They’re very selective about what jobs they take, or even what meetings they attend for that matter. They’ll go months, maybe even years before they release a project and in that time, won’t tell a soul what they’re up to. Even so..they sit atop the charts. They’re constantly in the media; the topic of conversation, whether they do anything to warrant it or not. Either way..they only move on their time, thus making my and everyone else’s job a whole lot harder. That is EJ the Don. See, I’ve known Eren since we were kids. One of my best friends, actually. We’d play together..go skateboard, break into old abandoned houses. The usual. But his biggest flaw was that he never listened to anyone. Dude doesn’t even listen to his own mom. The bastard even left home at sixteen without a plan or direction. Anything could’ve happened to him out here but did he give a damn? No. He always acted of his own volition and didn’t care if it got him hurt or in trouble, or anyone else for that matter. And I learned early on the one thing that would make him listen. Do you know what that is, Sasha?”

befuddled as ever, the starry eyed brunette listened to her boss ramble on, mainly out of her own intrigue to learn more about this EJ character beyond his music and media headlines. Shaking her head, she’d begin to nibble on some nearby chips, listening attentively. Suddenly, Mikasa glared with quite a sinister look on her face. Not one looking to cause harm or malice but as if she just had a very memorable flashback before uttering one word: “Violence.” Which caught Sasha completely off guard!

“Violence?!”

“That’s right. Violence. Now I don’t mean in the physical sense..although, I did have quite a bit of fun beating his ass in a good street fight or two. But what I mean is something more metaphorical. A good swift kick in the ass. A push..something that forces him to be so uncomfortable, he has no choice but to move. This is that article. There isn’t much that Eren cares about, at least enough to get out of character but music? There’s no one in this business that does it quite like him. He’s a damn genius and the second that’s called into question, he’ll be quick to address it and clear up any notion that he’s not the best. It’s his one love in life so he’ll take it seriously. It’s a shitty thing to do, I know and I’d never stoop so low as to run a smear campaign against my own clients. But he’s beyond normal tactics. Besides, I didn’t think that lunatic of a woman would run with just a nugget of information and turn it into this. Leonhart’s a fucking psycho but she knows how to light a fire underneath someone, that’s for sure and press the right buttons. The only thing I can do now is wait and hope that he bites.”

it was a lot for Sasha to take in and trust, if she had faith in anyone, it was this woman. She’d watch her turn complete nobodies into industry sensations overnight. She was gifted at what she did and making the transition from performer to her current role was the best decision that Mikasa could’ve ever made. However, her assistant couldn’t help but shake the nagging suspicion that there was a missing piece to all of this and that it may not go according to her master plan. All of which she’d keep to herself because the last place she wanted to be was on the maverick’s bad side. That was not a woman you’d ever want to piss off! So she’d nod silently and agree. Hoping that for her boss’ sake, he did.

I hope you’re right, Ms. Ackerman. Business is business, but is it truly worth it..if you have to sell out your own friend?

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two days later • Houston Amphitheater, Houston, TX

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═

“Thank you Houston! ‘Appreciate the love..and I’d like to thank my wonderful band. My stage crew and of course, my lovely, beautiful dancers for tonight..the always talented Pole Assassins. These ladies are some of the best to ever do it and I’m grateful that they were a part of this experience tonight. Thank you all and good night, bless..”

the female R&B artist stood before the roaring crowd, microphone in hand and a huge smile as the audience showered both her and everyone else with copious amounts of praise. Even spiking at the mention of the quintet’s name. Bouffant curls, body like that of a goddess, tattoos littering her arms and the voice of an angel. It was unbelievable that you all were even here right now! Which was wild to imagine because just a year ago, the group couldn’t get a single booking because no one saw how it would add value to the concert but (y/n) and the entire group had come to prove everyone wrong. Now all types of artists were hoping to have the girls as part of the show. Not to mention, your outside starpower was beginning to have an effect on that as well. Either way, you had a blast. Being in a room with such infectious energy, being felt up by this fine ass singer as she belted the sultry lyrics to her songs and watched you twirl around the pole. It almost made you forget what and who you were doing not too long ago…fast forward, and you all found yourselves at the infamous Pappadeaux’s downtown. Sipping on drinks, reflecting and enjoying appetizers and laughs as you awaited your meals.

“Whew!..I don’t know about y’all but I am feeling amazing! That was the best hands down, I’ve never had that much fun.” Brianne, who was the first to bring up tonight’s show; ecstatic and thrilled after the high that came with dancing. Truthfully, it took her back to her days in the strip club and it felt like being at Blue Flame all over again. That bit of nostalgia, coupled with the fact that she too had a huge crush on their performer didn’t help! Especially when she grabbed her throat and pretended to kiss her. And not one person could disagree.

“Yeah, cause you were ready to bump coochies with that lady, Bri! You’re not slick.”

“And I would be right now, if it weren’t for you meddling bitches. I was this close!”

pinching her fingers together as she nursed another sip of her drink. Mad at her friends’ interference in her affairs. But they all knew better than to allow that to happen.

“Yeah, close to getting your ass beat. Her girlfriend was standing right there backstage and I know she got hands.” Brianne would simply dismiss Kelly and Syrai’s statements, continuing to eat her crab dip, placing a piece of bread between her long nails and taking a bite. “I know she does too. Real nice hands. That’s why I want both of them!” Sending all of them bursting into laughter afterwards. Brianne, who was and has always has been proudly lesbian never shied away from the fact that she loved the ladies. Hence why she was so popular at her old job..sure, she’d pull the rappers and drug dealers but it was the women in business suits and six figures who would line up to get a dance from Candy; her former moniker. “You are so crazy. I’m not messing with you.” Even so, it felt good for all of you to be back together..chatting it up and laughing like this. Celebrating after a huge success. However, it wasn’t lost on any of them that although (y/n) was talking and engaging, you seemed to be spaced out and your mind was elsewhere. That much confirmed by the way you were scrolling and snickering at your phone underneath the table. “Speaking of..” Niesha, who was holding her butter knife, smacked her lips and turned to face you, as did the rest of the table to confront you. Now that you were, they could easily address the elephant in the room: “..mind telling us why the hell you stood us up the other night? Had us waiting that long..” if anyone would remember, it was most certainly the woman you often referred to as your sister! Nothing slipped past Miss Niesha. She was not only perceptive but nosy as hell. You were certain your little story about sudden onset illness wouldn’t hold up in her eyes. So she’d ask for the truth this time.

“I told you, I wasn’t feeling well..”

“I know that’s what you told me. Ion believe that shit though. So��.who was you in there fucking on?” The question immediately prompts you to spit your drink out and Kelly, Brianne and Syrai to burst into another fit of cackles. They knew as well as she did that you were full of it. “Nie!” Hell, they knew something was amiss when you left practice as soon as it was over..which had never happened! But instead of going to your hotel room, you beelined to another one on the second floor and it got the girls talking as to what or who was in there. “We’re not mad at you, we’re just curious.” “Hell, they got to be some pressure for you to keep going back. You don’t like nobody..” which they could all agree upon. Nonetheless, you’d suck your teeth and roll your eyes with a gentle smirk on your face. Nursing another sip of your drink, you’d dismiss their comments. Attempting and hoping to evade this topic. “That is not true. I’m nice.” How would they be able to handle the fact knowing that not only had EJ flew all the way out here just to see you but it was so damn good, that the second you two had any spare time, it was spent fucking on each other in the past seventy two hours. Sneaking to one another’s rooms, doing all the things you had no business and trust, if word got into the wrong hands, you’d be branded a clout chasing rapper’s girlfriend forever. Not exactly the label you wanted while trying to build a brand of your own. Even so, your girls all noted the very obvious difference in your demeanor since the night you claimed to have been sick. Most people didn’t sport beaming smiles after a case of food poisoning. However, they knew it was more so a matter of your guts being rearranged that had you elated!

“Chile, you don’t have to lie to us. So…who’s your new man? Is it a man at all?”

(Y/N) didn’t utter a word and rather sat there in complete silence, stealing small sips of the fruity margarita you had been consuming. Instead, you’d leave them to figure it out with the constant context clues you had been giving. Besides, if you said it outright, it’d actually look as if you two were dating which was the furthest thing from! They’d all sit there, mumbling among themselves as they tried to figure out who it was that had your attention all of a sudden. And the first guess would come from Syrai, who had spotted pictures of you and some male backup dancer who had been touring with the artists as well and had been trying to get at you for a while. To which you’d shake your head and the suggestions would continue. “Is it that defensive lineman for the Cowboys? He's been on your shit heavy.” They were blurting out everyone from this singer or that basketball player, who’s radar you had been on for the longest yet not a single one was right! That was until Niesha seemed to have a bit of a breakthrough, looking up and around the table at everyone as if they were crazy. Before finally turning her attention to you with a smirk.

“You lil’ sly bitch..it’s EJ!” Sending the table into complete hysterics. Kelly, Brianne and Syrai all gasping and screaming and you trying to quiet them. The last thing you needed was for somebody to overhear you all. But alas, she had guessed correctly and there was no faking or denying it because your change in expression said it all. He was definitely the culprit!

“Can y’all be quiet?! Damn..gon’ have my business all over Texas fucking with y’all.” Yelling as you tried to feign your own excitement; covering your mouth as you laughed.

but their excitement could not be contained. It made so much sense…the Instagram comments, the stories you posted, listening to his songs and your little incident at the club. Most certainly not off base to think that the two of you had slept together! “You been fucking on that fine ass man and ain’t told us? You so fake (y/n).” As enthused as they were though, they’d have some advice for you. “ion know, I’d be careful with that one. That man is notorious for being a damn heartbreaker.” “Yeah, and staying in trouble. You sure you want them problems, girl?” Which threw you for a loop, considering you’d never seen him with anyone other than his ex. But then again, they made it their business to be up in everybody else’s and you could give a fuck less. Either way, it was none of your concern and you could care less what he did in his past. “You say that like that’s my nigga or something. What he does when he’s not with me is not my problem.” That’s what they all admired about you. Your ability to stay focused and not be phased by any outside influences. You could be laid with one of the world’s most famous and finest men, only to walk right past him the next day as if you never met. It was commendable how much resolve you housed. But that was expected when you didn’t think much of anyone in this industry anyways. They just didn’t know if they could handle seeing that type of pressure. Sure, your time with EJ was very nice and you’d love to see him again if the opportunity presented itself once you returned home, but he was on a private flight back to Miami right now, proceeding to business as usual; moving along with life so it was in your best interest to do the same. Hoisting your martini for another sip, you’d flash a look to all of your girls and address their concerns once and for all:

“Listen, I got three things in this world I’m worried about: my girls, my brand and my motherfuckin’ money. Anything else is just a nice little distraction. Including him. The dick was nice…really, really nice and I had fun but it’s not that serious between us.” Declaring as you stirred your drink and giggled, reminiscing on your past few nights together. You made it abundantly clear he was a non factor. No matter how many times you guys had sex, sent nudes or commented on each other’s posts. Maybe one day you’d find someone to settle down with but today was not it. For now, you were having your way!

“Now that that’s settled…y’all can quit worrying about me. I’m good. Can we move on, my loves?” And that was enough to ease their minds but it wasn’t enough to change the subject though! “Sure!..after you tell us about you and Mr. Jaeger, chile. I’m trying to know what that’s hitting for.” Kelly interjected and the others followed suit. So you had no other option than to divulge all the dirty details. Especially since you had been dying to share with them. “Fine. Since y’all wanna be nosy and shit. Let me start from the beginning….”

What else were girlfriends for after all?!

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|

page break/time skip: Miami Beach, FL • The Jaeger Estate

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|

meanwhile, Eren had already made his departure from the Lone Star State and was long gone. Bidding (y/n) adieu with a quick little makeout session in your room this evening as you got ready, before boarding his private jet and heading back home. The brief sabbatical was one that he needed and would surely linger with him for days to come but it was time to refocus. No distractions, no interruptions and no more playing around. Guilty pleasures were just that: pleasures. Only meant to be indulged in every so often but now it was time to resume the hustle. Get back to his main lady and that was music. The sweet sounds of synthesizers and instrumentals. Penning his raw feelings and emotions onto paper and translating it all into audible art…there wasn’t a greater feeling in the world. Of course, your pussy might have been a close second!

“Yeah, tell Fader I’m a little busy this week. We’ll have to reschedule that interview for sometime later this month. Tomorrow, me and Ony are gonna be locked in on this EP so I don’t want any distractions. I’m sure you can handle that.” “Yes sir, I understand.”

chatting it up with his loyal assistant Floch, who had been awaiting his return. He asked what he had been up to for his few days of leisure and that he’d be rewarding him with a bonus for all of his hard work. Having landed less than an hour ago, Eren had made his arrival back to Miami. Stepping foot off of his private jet to the driver's seat of his brand new McLaren; fresh off of the lot only a couple days before leaving. A sleek, sexy black with chrome accents and an iridescent finish. Very much the rapper’s speed. Another piece to add to the collection of antique and brand new cars sitting at his residence. It was one of the few hobbies he enjoyed outside of his work. But unfortunately, he wouldn’t be greeted by his parked vehicles and quiet estate once he got there. Where he expected to have his hot shower and warm bed awaiting him..plans of relaxation in his bedroom with some video games, or perhaps a movie, there was something far worse on the horizon. On the long, dark stretch of street leading up to his driveway..no neighbors surrounding him, Eren could spot faint lighting beaming from beyond the locked gates..or rather, what should have been. “What the—hey, Floch. I’ll call you back..” cutting the indiscernible chatter on the other end short as he disconnected the call and lowered his iPhone to the empty passenger seat. Who or what the hell was going on?! Was someone trying to rob him and it had tripped the sensors? They shouldn’t have even been able to make it up this far without the security company or his own personal team being alerted. He didn’t keep an entourage of bodyguards surrounding him because he figured what his hands couldn’t handle, his .45 could but someone had just violated his privacy and the sanctity of his home!

but as he’d soon find out, the culprit wasn’t some would-be burglar, wishing for a hefty lick. But rather, a far bigger opportunist. As he neared the entrance; headlights beaming on the monogrammed gates, he’d catch the silhouette of two bodies in the beams as well. However, what followed was a swarm of people, armed with kit guns but the lens of a camera and microphones in hand, hoping to get their scoop by any means. Because unbeknownst to EJ and completely without his knowledge, word had been circulating the internet with heavy accusations about him. Things that he was not expecting to hear tonight.

“EJ! EJ! Is it true you’re quitting music?!” “Can you tell us about what happened at Rolling Loud, why were you so tired?” “Were you really away at rehab for your addiction? Can you confirm?”

he wasn’t sure where any of this was coming from. Hell, he wasn’t even aware that there was a problem with his performance or anything else so this was all news to him. Who had started this rumor mill? Or better yet, who had allowed them to come there?! Paparazzi mobs felt so outdated and cliche anyways but these slimy scumbags didn’t rest when it came to getting in everyone’s mix. Falsely reporting the last time got them sued and one a hospital visit. But what he did know for certain was that they had two seconds to get the fuck off of his property before he gave them something to report! “I don’t know who sent you here but get the fuck out my driveway and away from my house before I do something bad!” Yelling over the barrage of snapping cameras and shouting. He was becoming super irate and that wasn’t good for anyone because he had been known to lose his cool in the past, even resulting in a couple nights in jail and making brash decisions but they were the ones invading his privacy and because of that, he was two seconds from going off the deep end. Just then, as he were trying to keep a cool head, and think rationally, one of them left a slight indent in this hood of his brand new baby. From that point, there was not consoling or soothing him. Whatever happened, he’d worry about the consequences later. “You fucking idiot! Get the hell away from my car! I know damn well you can’t afford to fix this shit.” For now, he was going to beat all of their asses until he got to the bottom of it! Hopping out of the parked vehicle, EJ began to swing at and attack the unrelenting mob, much like he had done in his younger days in fame. He knew it wasn’t right and his manager was going to have a fit, but he was going to teach people about disturbing his peace.

when I find out who did this shit, and sent these bastards to my house..I’m snapping. And they better hope it’s not their fucking neck!

but little did he know that the culprit…may not have been some far off stranger as he may have thought. But rather…someone far closer.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

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368 notes · View notes

klaus-mikaelsonslut · 9 months

Text

dating george clarke...

he's such a sweetheart fr 😘

buys you flowers n all 🌷

you're constantly featured in his youtube videos and the useless hotline

all of his friends love you 🙌

but grace, she becomes your long lost soulmate 🫶

you're literally inseparable, gets to the point where george has to drag you away

jealous bf 😔

living with george and his...interesting roommates is definitely something

jk jk arthur and alex love you fr 😘

if you're an aspiring singer, you and arthur definitely swap and criticize each other's lyrics

go play 'you're not a god' while you're at it!

alex is the type of guy to listen to 'queens of the stone age' for sure or 'foo fighters'

plays his music way too loud so when you and george are cuddling for example, george has to shout out to him to get him to turn it down lmao 😭

george is most definitely an amazing chef

brings you a cup of tea every morning 🍵

actually banging though

because you're born in london and have a thick accent, george loves to mock it while you imitate his posh bristol accent

you two are literally so in love

grace or max will take photos of him just gazing at you

"look at you! you big softie"

saw it on someone else's account but it's so true 😭😭, if you're influencer then you wouldn't really bring him to events as much bc he'd just stand in the corner with a little drink in his hand

literally wouldn't know anyone there 😭

you and max become really good friends so quick

back to that useless hotline headcanon, like andrew does you'd be on george's lap in the episodes that you're featured in 🫶

max is literally so invested in your relationship

double dates w him and andrew 👫🍜👬

you and george created your own lil podcast called 'honesty's the best policy'

gets so many reviews icl

it's one of the podcasts where you don't have guests, it's just the two of you

"google play 'just the two of us' by bill withers"

you talk about your relationship, you read random reddit stories and give your opinions, talk about upcoming events/the current news

it's a great way for the both of you to become really open towards each other, not that you weren't before

since the start of your relationship, your channel has received so much more attention

you're grateful always 🫶

you and george make a video looking back at your first few videos (you were, in fact, fourteen years of age)

you're embarrassed asf but laughing the whole way though

so glad you got out of your teenage clothing style 😘

was an actual disgrace against humanity

cooking together, reading to each other, cuddling while watching films

literally so comforting

when you meet his family, they LOVE you

can't get enough of your brilliant sense of humour

#comedian

before you moved in together, you two would ride trains to go see each other

running to each other in the station

#movieworthy

his hugs are literally the best, he's so warm it's like hugging a large cat

kinda sounds insulting but i swear it's not 😭

speaking of cats, you have one or two...

okay, when he went to yours for the first time you had four

😭

MILLIE BOBBY BROWN HAS THIRTEEN WHY SHOULDN'T YOU LIVE OUT YOUR DREAMS

they all love him

your oldest cat, sylvester, literally hates strangers for unknown reasons but loves george

he's literally full on purring and you're just like 'wtf??'

do you move all four cats into george, arthur and alex's flat?

yes, yes you do

luckily they all love cats 😍

except alex...he's slightly sceptical lmao

your relationship with george is so slay 🫶🫶

you love him through everything and he's the same to you

he whispers 'i love you' when you're cuddling 😭😭

literally on the ground

personally, i would never recover

#george clarkey x reader #y/n #youtuber #influencers #george clarkey imagine #i'm in love #delusional

203 notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 2 years

Text

Into Cursed Pixie Dust

Fandom: MCU

Characters/Pairings: Winter Soldier x female!Reader

Word Count: 8.9K

Summary: “He's credited over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years…” but you don’t know that. You run into him once, then again, again, again. Destiny draws you together, and neither of you can deny the pull. And yet though he never ages, you do.

Warnings: SMUT, morally grey Winter Soldier, cheating (don’t read/complain if you don’t want it), penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, fingering, WS doesn’t stalk reader but territorially has his eyes on her/is aware of her when she’s in his orbit? Minors do not interact.

Additional Notes: First LENGTHY fic here. This idea crept up on me somewhat inspired by the feeling and some of the lyrics of Mazzy Star’s Into Dust, elements of Peter Pan folklore as he never ages and Winter Soldier also has that unconventional relationship with time, and the concept that he could keep encountering the same person – not every time he’s sent on a mission, but a few times, enough for it to be significant. Part of me also liked the challenge of trying to tie him to nefarious deeds/political intrigue/etc and going down some Google and Wikipedia rabbit holes to spin the timeline of encounters together (you can see the notes/significance/context for each date at the end of the fic).

July 1961 – St. Tropez, France

You are rushing as fast as your short heels would allow down to the docks. Your parents had left the house late for their weekend away to Cannes, which meant you were late sneaking out to Hank’s boat party, but you knew you could still make it if you kept a quick enough pace. You couldn’t run and show up in a huff of sweat and disheveled hair, but swift strides should still serve to get you there before Hank gave word to pull away from shore. Hank usually ran a little late himself, but you still needed to make good time.

Hank was the oldest of the Stanton siblings, and it was his youngest sister and your best friend Helen who was your connection to this social circle. It wasn’t going to be an excessively large party, but Hank hadn’t put a stop to any of the rumors of the various summer St. Tropez social elites that could be confirmed on his guest list. Brigette Bardot was among those names, but you were angling to catch Hudson Stanton’s eye – middle son of the Stantons and recently unattached and thus newly eligible bachelor.

You don’t give more than a glance as you approach the next street and made to cross, hearing no engines around this part of the town, and so swift is your pace that you are knocked clean off your feet as someone else appears from around the corner, colliding with your path.

You let out a small scream as you fall, not out of fear, but frustration.

“Are you alright?”

Your pride is smashed for the moment, and you can already feel that your right hip, right elbow, and the heel of your right hand would be very tender and sore, if not bruised, but you didn’t seem to be bleeding, thank goodness.

You frown but reach to take the hand of the offender, who’d leaned closer to help you get up. “You should be more careful and watch where you’re going!” you huff as he hoists you up almost effortlessly. You know you should have been looking more closely yourself, but it was definitely him, too.

After smoothing the fabric of your dress, you lift your face up to look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

The stranger is tall and dressed in a black dinner jacket, with short brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a firm jaw. “My apologies,” he said.

You take half a step back, pulling your hand out of his gloved hand, and smooth it over your dress again, looking down to see if it has torn or been soiled. “Is my dress alright?” you ask, looking back up to his face and turning slightly.

His eyes scan your figure, and suddenly you wish you hadn’t asked, heat rising up your neck and across your cheeks under the man’s intense gaze.

He reaches out and straightens part of your sleeve. “There. Good now.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asks.

“The docks; a boat party is leaving soon.”

“A young dame like you shouldn’t be walking through this part of the city alone.”

You frown at him. “I’m twenty-one and perfectly capable of getting somewhere on my own, thank you very much.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up. “I’d feel better if I could walk you there after our little incident.”

Maybe it would be good to have an escort for a few more minutes. “Fine, but only because you’re insisting, and only until we get to the docks. I can’t sneak you into the party.” And you didn’t want anyone to see this man walking you straight up to Hank’s boat. There were more than enough nosy Nellies that would immediately ask about him and spread that circulate the rumors like lightning.

With a nod of his head, he takes your hand and tucks it in the crook of his elbow, his gloved hand covering your fingers, a silent indication to keep hold of his arm.

“This way?” he asks, inclining his head to the left. You nod, and he whisks you away immediately.

He asks short, leading questions designed to keep words tumbling out of your mouth so he could stay focused on completing his mission, but of course you don’t know that. He’s too good at what he does for you to even question. You assume the kindness of a gallant, tall, dark, and handsome stranger. To him you’ve become the convenient cover as he puts distance between himself and the restaurant where three still bodies bleed out. Anyone looking for him won’t consider what looks like a young couple in love as they comb the streets for an assassin.

He’s walked you nearly all the way to the docks when tires screech as a car up at the corner ahead takes the sharp turn and begins coming your way, and no less suddenly, your escort has flung you up against the wall, a hand over your mouth before you can make a sound. You are breathless as your turn your head slightly to look at him. The two of you are not entirely in the shadows, and your bodies aren’t totally flush against each other, but the right half of his body has you pinned up against the wall, one leg planted between yours. You’ve shared a few kisses with some suitors, but this is the closest a man has ever been to you, complete contact from hips to shoulders. One hand is still hovering over your mouth, and the other has come up to brace your shoulder. He inclines his head down slightly to hover next to your ear, and the whisper of a breath you feel on your neck makes you shiver.

“Just a moment,” he promises.

It’s intoxicating.

The car passes. You both hear another car speeding down the road from the opposite direction, and he continues to hold you in what looks to anyone else like an intimate daliance.

Once the second car has passed, he steps away, and you can only blink at him for a few seconds before you recover.

He slips your hand into his arm again and tugs you back along the street.

He doesn’t usher you back into conversation, but it’s only another block before the buildings come to an end to give way to the network of St. Tropez docks.

He removes your hand from his arm and says, “Stay out of trouble,” before stepping back away from you and disappearing into the shadows, heading down another alley.

You shake your head and turn around, not knowing whether you really expect to see him or where he went. Ahead you hear another car pass, but this one has music playing loudly, and you smile and remember where you’re going. The more steps you take toward the docks, the more the music and then loud voices and laughter pull you in and push out the thoughts surrounding the man you just encountered. Helen calls your name, jumping and waving at the end of a small yacht, and then a smile beams across your face, and you forget the stranger almost completely.

November 21, 1963 – Dallas, Texas, United States

You didn’t think of him again until you see him across the way at the hotel bar, a small glass of something in front of him that looks untouched, his eyes on you. You bite your lip and incline your head to the side slightly. He gives a single small nod in response.

Suddenly Helen is arriving in a huff next to you, explaining the chaos of the last hour she’s had getting ready, the unexpected call from her soon-to-be mother-in-law, and the handful of other excuses that made her late meeting you here. Once she’s settled and ordering her drink, you look back across the bar, but your forgotten memory of a man is nowhere to be seen, the now empty glass the only indication you hadn’t made it up entirely.

You and Helen have a cocktail each before it’s time to head across the street to the restaurant to meet your respective fiancés for dinner.

The reason you hadn’t thought of that whirlwind encounter again was because that night on the yacht had exceeded your own expectations, catching Hudson Stanton’s eye early in the evening, laughing over dinner, dancing, watching the stars alone on the top deck, sharing your first kiss, and then, and then, and endless letters while you were apart, summers and holidays and weekends together while you finished school, and now an engagement ring on your finger, and you in Dallas this weekend to look at a house as Hudson’s firm has transferred him to head up their first office in the great state of Texas, your big New Year’s Day wedding less than six weeks away.

Dinner with Hudson, Helen, and Jack is just as you expected. Helen and Jack beg the pair of you to go dancing with them, but Hudson maintains he’s got to turn in early since he has to pick up his boss from the airport in the morning, Helen and Jack don’t press too hard, and you don’t expect to see Helen return to your hotel room that night, suspecting she’ll end up with Jack all night instead.

Hudson walks you back to your hotel and kisses you goodnight before you go inside. He won’t even walk you to the elevator because you both know if you get him that far, he won’t be able to refuse just the ride up, and then just walking you to your door, and…

You love and loathe how much of a gentleman he is.

Your thoughts are still sweetly lingering on Hudson as you walk through the hotel lobby. It’s busy tonight, music spilling out from the ballroom, and you start humming along with the familiar tune the band is playing.

You’re reaching to press the button for the elevator when a hand catches yours, and you whip your head to find it’s the stranger from the bar, the mystery man from that night in St. Tropez.

“You!” Your rockets into your throat.

“Come with me,” he insists.

His hand is warm, and your eyes are locked, and that intoxicating feeling you’d felt with your back pressed up against the wall floods back over you because even just the gaze from his intense blue eyes is too much. He’s not real. He can’t be.

But you nod, and he pulls you swiftly through the bodies milling about the lobby and into the ballroom. Once inside, he continues further into the room, and sweeps you into the swirl of bodies dancing in the middle. It’s darker here, but you can see every detail of his face, suddenly so close to yours again. There are too many questions you could ask, so you ask none. Your bones are melting as he holds your body flush against his, totally caught up in the movement and the music as he leads you around the dance floor.

You’re blissfully unaware that you have become an invisibility cloak to him again, this time an instrument to get close enough to his targets to verify them and register their voices in his head. He could have done this without you, but he ignores that. Using you as a cover make this easier, and his superiors don’t care how an assignment is completed if it’s done efficiently and without any trouble to clean up.

The first song you dance to is jaunty and keeps you smiling and feeling breathless. You don’t look at him much, your eyes moving around the room, taking everything in. He leads well, but the pace is so quick that you’re looking around as well to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. The next song is slow, a sweet Sinatra standard. You don’t know if he pulls you in or if you push your body closer to him, but within moments of the shift of the tone on the dance floor, you’re moving as one. His right hand has dropped to the small of your back and is not merely resting there, but intently holding you against him.

This was never part of his training, but his body knows how to move around the ballroom without a second thought. As you sway slowly together, he maneuvers you to a darker corner of the dance floor. Your head is inclined slightly, placing your cheek closer to his, and he presses his face to yours briefly. Then the two of you are in an alcove, hidden from nearly everyone, and your back is against the wall again. His lips brush your cheek, and you turn your head up to look at him. He keeps his right hand at the small of your back, but his left hand drops your hand and comes to the side of your neck, his thumb brushing softly over your jawline, his eyes searching yours. You nod, and his mouth captures yours.

The kiss is heated and hungry, he will devour you, and in this moment you don’t care. You cling to him, one hand snaking up his back to hold desperately to his shoulder as you pull closer to him, and the other clutching at his chest where you feel some sort of armored metal near his heart for a moment. He nips at your bottom lip, and you gasp and open your mouth to him. His tongue plunges in to stroke yours, to taste you.

He’s on an entirely different mission now, and his lips move from your mouth to trail along your jaw to that spot behind your ear, and you moan. You can feel an answering rumble in his chest, and his lips continue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, making you gasp. You long to whimper his name but realize you can’t.

“Wait, wait,” you whisper, and his lips trail back up your throat.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his breath hot as it ghosts over your ear.

“No, just–” you fight to coherently string your words together, “What’s your name?”

He pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, and you think you see a flash of uncertainty, but then it’s gone, and his lips move back to burrow in the crook of your neck, and he murmurs, “You don’t need to know that.”

“But I want to know,” you press, your fingers softly playing with his bowtie.

“We don’t always get what we want,” he says firmly, and suddenly there’s all kinds of space between you. He’s retreating, and you reach your hand out to touch his face, but he shakes his head, and then he disappears around the corner.

You stomach has plummeted, and so it takes you too long to step forward and look around the corner and back into the crowd. There’s no sign of him, so there’s no point in following, you know that. You fall back into the alcove and press up against the wall, hands clutched to your chest, heaving from the heated moment but also now from the fight to keep from crying.

You wait until you’re calm enough to step out of the shadows again, smoothing your dress and your hair. You keep along the edges of the party, careful not to draw anyone’s attention, then move across the lobby and to the elevator. You keep your eyes focused up on the arrow above the sliding doors that moves slowly from left to right as the lift rises to your floor, dinging when it hits the ten. Once you’re in your room, you close the door behind you, and rest back against it, letting your head fall back, eyes stinging again, but you bite your lip and shake your head and push away from the door.

As you move further into your room, your breath catches as you see an enormous display of more white and pink roses and peonies than you can count. You step quickly forward and snatch the card that is sticking out of the arrangement.

All my love, Holden

You smile and press the card to your chest, letting your other hand drift to touch the soft petals. With reluctance you set down the card and step away from the flowers to kick your shoes off and start to get ready for bed. Your eyes are drawn back to the flowers frequently as you move around the room and in and out of the bathroom.

The phone rings, and you pick up after the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Darling, did you get the flowers?”

“Yes, they’re perfect,” you sigh and sit on the bed.

The longer you talk, the more you’re glad you shared nothing more than a few kisses with your stranger, and the sting of shock and his sudden abandonment drift further and further away. Holden’s voice is a balm to your soul. You settle more comfortably into the bed, and you two talk until you fall asleep.

You wake again at some point not long after midnight to the beeping of the phone being off the hook, place it back on its cradle, and properly crawl under the covers, finding sleep again almost instantly.

Planning for a wedding and a move to a new home out of state would have been enough to occupy your thoughts and push the stranger and his intense blue eyes and heated kisses out of your mind, but added to that the following day in Dallas, minutes after you stood and waved at the presidential motorcade with Holden and Helen and Jack, you and the rest of the country and the rest of the world receive the horrifying news that John F. Kennedy has been shot, and then the news escalates from a shooting to the assassination of the American president. Trivial thoughts are long gone.

March 14, 1972 – Milan, Italy

You’re on a business trip with Hudson. Well, sometimes. Mostly you’re on a trip where you’re scheduled and bustled around with fifteen of the other office wives. You don’t usually mind, but there was no way you wanted to spend two hours on a bus to and then another two hours back from today’s excursion, and the women don’t fuss over you making your excuses to stay behind since you haven’t made them often on this trip, and you have ample valid excuses to draw from at the drop of a hat in your condition.

Today you wanted the day to yourself, just one day away from Marjorie, the middle-aged queen bee of all the wives. One day to do as you please.

You stay in bed just a little later than usual, eat breakfast on the patio of the hotel restaurant, then slowly amble around some of the tourist points of the city that your hired guides had whipped through in a frenzy the first few days with you and the other wives.

You think you see him first during your long lunch, but it’s across the street, and it’s probably not him anyway.

But it is him, and you didn’t see him first. You don’t know he saw you yesterday.

After you meander back to your hotel room, you draw a bath, intending to read for the rest of the afternoon. You twist your hair up, then sink into the tub. You read until the water’s lost its heat, then you wrap up in a silk robe and move out to the chaise lounge chair. You ring down to have afternoon tea service brought up to your room. It’s been years since you’ve had this kind of time – husband and house and two children already traipsing around your home while preparing for a third and the Junior League meetings and social and work functions. It’s been eight days in Italy, and half of you misses the hustle of home, but half of you wants to stay here away from the bustle like this forever.

A quarter of an hour later, there’s a quick trio of knocks, and you stretch and set your book down before rising to answer the door.

“Come in,” you offer, pulling the door open wide so the tea cart can be pushed in, and you quickly walk toward the small balcony and slide the glass door open to indicate that’s where you’d like them to leave your tea.

The tea cart has not been pushed along behind you though. It’s only been pushed a few feet into the room from the door, which the man, who is not hotel staff, is closing quietly.

He removes the uniform hat, places it on the corner of the tea cart, and runs a hand through his hair as he turns to look at you. His hair is a longer than it was in Dallas almost ten years earlier, but those impossibly blue eyes lock onto yours with the same intensity they did back then.

“It was you earlier today.”

He nods.

You stand motionless, but he strides across the room, not quickly, but not slowly either.

“What are you doing here?”

He does not answer with words, but with a kiss that pulls your soul from your chest up into your throat. Your hands come to his chest, and the natural inclination is to pull him closer, but somehow your brain registers that you should push him away. You can’t seem to put the effort into pushing against him, but you do hold him at bay and manage to turn away from him.

“I’m married,” you say.

“I don’t care that you’re married,” he responds, his hand brushing up your arm to your shoulder, then across to the base of your neck, drawing a shiver from you. “Unless he’s a bastard,” he adds.

“Why do you care at all?” It’s not a bitter question, just honest curiosity from you.

“I shouldn’t, but our paths have crossed too many times not to. We must belong to each other.”

He steps closer, and you feel the heat of him against your back. His hand moves to skim over your right collar bone, then down across your chest, slipping so easily into your silk robe, and palming your left breast. You moan sinfully, your right hand coming up to cover his, your fingers twining together.

Then another flash in your mind and you pull his hand away and turn back to face him.

“I’m married,” you repeat again, and you draw his hand down to the very new baby bump that is still mostly undetectable to others.

His eyes drop to your stomach, where your hands are resting together. The calculations are happening quickly, you can see it on his face. His eyes dart back up to yours, hand moving from your stomach to your hip.

“I came to claim what’s mine.”

He’s so close, and he’s looking at you with so much heat.

“I–“

You lose your ability to continue thinking clearly when both of his hands come up to capture either side of your neck.

“You,” he insists, his lips descending on yours, cutting off any more protest. “You’re mine.”

The kiss is demanding, and his hands don’t move from where they frame your neck until he can feel the moment you surrender to the kiss and to him. It’s a small sigh falling from your mouth that you can’t hold back, parting your lips, and his tongue slips in. Both of his hands from your neck across your clavicle to your shoulders, purposefully slipping beneath the silk robe, pushing it off. He easily releases the tie at your waist, and you don’t stop the robe from falling away completely, pooling on the floor.

His kisses are relentless, but his lips move to your jaw, and then your neck. Your head falls back, and he draws a moan from you when he pauses to tongue the sensitive spot where your neck and collarbone meet.

Then his mouth descends to your breasts, kissing along the curve of your left breast, then moving to the right. His right hand moves up to palm and gently squeeze one breast while he licks and sucks the nipple of the other. Finally powerless to fight anymore, your hands thread through his hair, urging him to continue. He easily scoops you up into his arms, bringing you into his chest, and your legs wrap around him, lips meeting each other again. He walks you over to the bed and tosses you onto the mattress.

You’re breathless, but so is he, standing above you at the edge of the bed. His blue eyes have blown with the lust he won’t deny, the lust he demands. He’s only looking at you, but the scorching heat of his eyes as they move over your nearly naked body have you burning in a way that you’ve never felt before. It’s overwhelming, and yet not unwelcome.

Before your head and your heart can catch up with your core, he reaches for your ankles and draws your body down to the edge of the mattress. He is quick in removing the last bit of clothing from your body, tossing the panties behind him without another thought.

Your arms are down by your sides, hands grasping at the sheets, watching as he undoes his pants, pushing them down around his thighs with his underwear in one go. His cock is hard and ready. Your eyes follow his hands now, and his right hand grazes along your inner thigh, coming to rest on top of your mound. He brushes his thumb over your folds and releases a deep satisfied hum, finding you hot and wet. You bite your lip as you look back up into his face. His thumb pushes inside you, and the small whimper that escapes you betrays what you were trying desperately to deny from him and from yourself.

He leans down over you, using his left arm to brace himself above you, removes his thumb from your entrance and slips in two long fingers, drawing a sigh from you.

“Just this moment,” he says, “this afternoon.” His lips seek yours again.

“Just this,” you agree and then continue the feverish kiss.

“Just you,” he murmurs against your cheek. He moves his hand and presses his cock warmly against you, teasing the tip in and out of your folds.

You look down to see where your bodies are connecting as he slides his into your cunt. Slowly he pulls back out, guiding the head of his penis over your clit, causing your hips to buck up into him at the sensation. You can feel him watching your face, taking in your reaction. You close your eyes as he slides into you again, and the exquisite fullness draws a moan from your lips.

He draws back out, then pushes in again, then another slow draw out, and back in till you take his length completely. Your breath comes in short gasps as you adjust to his size, and you clutch at the front of his uniform jacket. He brushes his right hand over your cheek, and you turn your head slightly to kiss his palm, a silent assurance that you’re okay.

He pulls your leg up to rest over his shoulder, and it seats him more deeply inside of you. The sound you make is one you’ve never made before as he starts thrusting again with this new angle. While his left hand stays planted at your side on the bed, his right hand freely explores your body, drifting up and down your neck, palming your breast, squeezing at your waist, brushing along your thigh, gripping your hips, threading into your hair to pull you in for another kiss, skimming over your shoulder. It’s a starved, hungry touch, and your body sings everywhere his fingers seek out.

Once he finds his rhythm, he is relentless, pumping more quickly. That he’s still mostly clothed while you’re naked beneath him is maddening but reassuring – you feel vulnerable beneath him, but if it was skin to skin with every inch of your bones pressing into his, it would be too intimate, completely undeniable. The single barrier keeps you from being consumed by this enigma, and since you know he’s going to disappear, you need that.

Both of you are breathing in heavy pants, and while he’s still drawing moans and whimpers from you, he’s been maddeningly silent. He adjusts his hips slightly so he can move his hand between you, fingers seeking out your aching clit, rubbing concentrated, furious circles over the bud. The band within you is pulling tighter and tighter, until and he achieves his goal in pushing you over the edge. You bite back a scream, and his mouth covers yours once again with a kiss to stifle the noise and possibly steal a bit of your soul – at least that’s how it feels as he fucks you through your climax, chasing his own end. You roll your hips slightly beneath him, and the shift makes his breath hitch. Two more powerful thrusts, and he stops, spilling his seed inside you, the low groan escaping him as gratifying to your ears as the feel of him sinking against you, pumping in and out of you slowly a few more times. Then he stills, and time seems to stop, the two of you just holding onto each other.

Satisfied.

He kisses the side of your neck again, and you hum contentedly. Your fingers brush gently through his hair. He squeezes your hip again, then suddenly rolls off you and moves from the bed. You want to reach for him, pull him back for more, but you don’t. He must disappear again.

After pulling up his trousers, he retrieves your robe and panties from the floor and sets them on the bed next to you. He does lean in for one final kiss, and you arch up to meet his lips. When he can feel you begin to melt again, he draws away, looking back only once when he reaches the door. You will remember that hint of a smile for years.

He disappears like a shadow.

December 16, 1991 – suburban area of Washington, D.C., United States

You sigh and drum your fingers against the steering wheel. You’ve just dropped your youngest off at high school and been to the grocery store. The traffic isn’t terrible, but it seems to be more congested and moving more slowly through this part of town than normal, and you’re bored and impatient. Suddenly you hear a commotion above the sounds of your radio, and you roll your window down and look around. There are cars honking, screeching of tires, and shouts in the street, but you can’t see clearly what’s happening as you crane your head to look all around. Only a few other drivers seem to be noticing the strangeness as well. You give up for a moment as the light changes and you pass through the intersection and then into the next block, but then you’re stopped again, waiting at another light, and the sounds grow softer, more distant. You look around again and still can’t seem to see any clue as to what’s going on, but you do see a man all in black with almost shoulder length hair walking incredibly fast down the sidewalk, moving quickly past the pedestrians around him. He is on the left side of the road, but walking your way, so it’s easy for you to follow his progress. He looks up and scans his surroundings, eyes naturally glancing your way, but when he does a doubletake your jaw drops because you know those eyes, that face, though the hair is longer.

His eyes now locked on you. He quickly but casually begins to cross the two lanes of traffic that separated you. “Let me in,” he says when he’s close enough before crossing in front of your car. You reach to unlock the passenger side door, and he slips in just before the light at the next intersection changes and the line of cars you were waiting behind begins to move again.

He sees a dark blue baseball cap left on the backseat by your son and quickly reaches for it, putting it on his own head. “Just drive like normal,” he says, “keep heading north or east.”

You nod and keep going, glancing over briefly to look at his face. He’s watching the streets.

The sound of sirens begins blaring behind you, and a glance in the rearview mirror shows a Chevy Blazer speeding through the quaint traffic, the cops in pursuit right behind. You and the cars around you move to the right and stop as quickly as you can as you’re supposed to – and to get out of the way – and you give your companion a quizzical look.

He shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“So, hello,” you finally say after the commotion speeds past and normal traffic has resumes.

“Hello,” he responds.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, then glance at him again. It’s been almost twenty years since that afternoon in your hotel room in Milan. Before you slept together in Italy, you’d been so blissfully and happily married to Hudson. After sex with this stranger, you remained happily married to Hudson – you had certainly reeled from the realization of what had occurred between you two, but you genuinely didn’t have a desire for anything in your life to change. You never told a soul what happened, and after years it finally faded from your conscience.

With this man in your car, however, all the heat and memories from every encounter have flooded back immediately, vivid and undeniable. Part of your core aches. And you try to concentrate on your driving and keeping your breath even. All of that seems like a lifetime ago, almost made up like a fairytale, and yet he’s here, beside you again today, hardly a foot away.

And now he’s looking at you.

“Are you alright?”

His gaze is as intense as it always has been.

Everything about him is the same as it always has been.

But that can’t possibly be true, can it?

“You haven’t changed at all.” The words tumble so quickly out of your mouth, after you finally think of something to say. “What are you… some kind of Peter Pan?”

“If you want.”

“Well, you’ve never given me any other name.”

And just how much he hasn’t changed magnifies in your own mind how much you feel you’ve changed. You’ve aged, with lines around your eyes, five children rounding out your body, elbows the only true angle you feel your figure still has to boast, you know the grey in your hair has started to become more prominent despite your efforts to cover it up. You didn’t do all your make up today, only the essentials, and you’d only tossed on a sweater and jeans for what was supposed to be a typical Monday.

After another few minutes, you’re outside of the town and driving down a stretch of wooded highway.

“When you want to pull over and let me out, anywhere is good, I can make it where I need to go.”

You nod but don’t know exactly how to respond. There’s not an immediately convenient place to pull off, but your mind recalls some of the turn offs up ahead that you’ve passed a few hundred times. You don’t notice you nervously biting your bottom lip.

But he does, his eyes on you more than they are on the road.

“Or we can drive for a while.”

You glance back over at him, then turn your attention back to the road, tapping your thumbs anxiously on the steering wheel, your hands diligently gripping the ten and two position, the speed a little ahead of whatever is playing over the radio because you’re not even aware of the music at this point.

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

You huff out a breath you’ve been holding in. “You make me nervous.”

“You know I will never hurt you, don’t you?”

“Not that kind of nervous.”

The last time you were this close to each other, this man thoroughly fucked you into a mattress, and two decades later your body can’t deny the memories.

Finally, you reach a turnoff for a relatively unimportant road, flanked by forest on both sides. You drive a fair distance from the main road before you finally stop. Then you turn off the car, and return your hand to the wheel, needing that grounding to turn and face those blue eyes.

“I don’t understand. How can you look almost the same? The only thing that’s changed is your hair, some stubble, a new leather jacket.” You turn your head back to look out the windshield at the empty road before you. “You even look at me the same way you did back then, but I’m in no way the same young woman you came across a lifetime ago!”

Hudson still loves and adores you, but he hasn’t looked at you the way this man does in years – with this much heat, so intensely you can hardly breathe.

He never buckled in, so he easily angles his body to face you. Slowly, he reaches across the short space between you, brushing the fingers of his right hand tentatively over your fingers, giving you time to react or stop him, before he eases your hand off the wheel, letting your hand gently fall to rest in your lap. His eyes move to your face, and you close your eyes, holding your breath. His hands move down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let your left hand release from its grip on the wheel and shift out of the strap, drawing your hand to your chest. You nervously inhale and exhale. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Then suddenly the slow hesitation is abandoned, and he turns your head towards him to receive his kiss. Lips and tongue urging you to surrender immediately, and you do, mouth opening to him, and he angles your head to deepen the kiss further. The kisses are hungry, those of a starved man. Your hands come up to hold helplessly onto his wrists as he continues to hold your face in his grasp, the overwhelming desire he won’t hold back any longer sweeping you away with him to a neverland where nothing else exists.

After a few moments or a few minutes, you really don’t know, his hands drop down and quickly find the button and zipper of your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping eagerly. Swiftly his left hand pushes your legs apart, his right hand slips down the front of your panties, and your breath hitches as his middle finger purposefully strokes from your clit down your slit, finding you very wet – all for him now. He continues to trace back and forth across your folds, but not quite back up to your clit.

When he finally slides that single long finger inside your heat, you moan, dropping your head back against the headrest. His lips move to your neck, pressing heated kisses slowly up and down the column of your throat, each press of his lips matching the rhythm of his finger moving in and out of you. You press your left hand up to the roof of your car, and the other clutches his forearm. He starts to draw his hand away, but you push him back, your hand sliding now over the back of his, holding him there, and now he slips in a second finger, curling deliciously into your core.

He pulls his head back to watch your face when he moves his thumb to start circling your clit while he continues pumping his fingers, seemingly fascinated by the whimpers and keens he’s pulling from you as he plays your core with expert touch, stroking that spongy spot that deliciously tightens the coil tighter and tighter within you. Your cheeks are totally flushed, and you feel like you’re flying as he pulls you closer to the edge.

“Please,” you rasp desperately, hips rocking into his hand.

He quickens his motions while applying more pressure, giving you what you ask for, and watches your face as you come undone with a breathy, wordless shout, body shaking, your other hand grasping his bicep, curling forward as he slows but continues stroking your clenching walls through the immediate comedown, slowly and more slowly until your breathing finally evens out.

“Look at me,” he says in a low voice that makes your stomach flip again, and you open your eyes. His face is still so close to you.

He withdraws his hand from your core and slips just the tip of his index finger into your open and panting mouth, urging you to taste yourself on him. You suck without thinking, but he only allows you a moment before drawing his hand away and then sucking each of his fingers clean. He wants you to see him enjoy the taste of you on his lips, and when he’s done, he licks his lips, reaches down and gathers more slick from your release on his index finger and then licks it off again, and you can only whimper as you watch, overcome by the still unsatiated level of his lust.

He places slow deliberate kisses up along your jaw, and when he reaches your ear, he whispers, “That’s how I still see you,” and licks the shell of your ear, making you shiver and melt back against the seat.

Then suddenly he withdraws from your personal space, and in the next second opens and closes the passenger side door and you only register the sound quickly enough to see him disappear into the trees.

October 11, 2001 – Seattle, Washington, United States

You are with Hudson in Seattle. Over the years you have been with him on many business trips, but this was a trip from one coast to the other to see a new grandbaby. The other grandparents have just arrived, so the two of you decided to go to dinner on your own.

As you’re led through the restaurant to your table, you think you see his familiar face far across the dining room, eyes catching briefly, but it’s likely not him.

An hour later you are taking one of the last bites of the dessert you shared with Hudson when the waiter returns. “Is there anything else I can get for you this evening?” he asks.

“Oh, no,” Hudson responds, “just the check, please.”

“It’s already been taken care of, sir.”

“What?” you both ask.

“I was told to say it’s compliments of someone who admires your relationship.”

Hudson reaches across the table to take your hand and says something to the waiter, but you don’t pay attention to his words.

You have no idea how to feel, but you know it had to be him.

2014

You have seen him a lot this year, but it’s been on the television screen. First as a piece in a storm of news and revelations the day S.H.I.E.L.D. launched and sank three hellicarriers in Washington D.C. and Captain America exposed the remnants of HYDRA that had burrowed within the organization – HYDRA and their “fist,” the Winter Soldier. Then there was the Senate investigation into what went on that day, preceded and followed by many news specials. Now you know more about him than you ever did before, and so much about him makes sense to you, though you imagine you will never know the whole story. Even now, so much that has been pieced together by the media and further sketched out by you is fractured, pieces missing, conjectures tying gaps together.

That he’s resurfaced in your life at this point is perhaps just as it should be. Though not physically present, he provides a consuming something else to think about in the new stage of your life where the other man who has been at the center of your life is also no longer physically present, as you awake and remember with a fresh wave of grief each day.

You’re not consumed by grief, there are still children, and grandchildren, friends, errands, hobbies, dreams, social obligations, but the person who was your constant is gone, and it’s always an ache.

You and Hudson had celebrated your fiftieth wedding anniversary at the beginning of the year, a stroke taking him one afternoon unexpectedly in the early spring. He was your best friend, and the two of you had certainly built a life together. It was not a fairytale perfect marriage, but pretty damn near close, and Hudson was the love of your life despite the man you now know was the Winter Soldier dropping incidents of indiscretion into your history. Over the years you had never spoken of the other man to anyone, reckoning with the incongruence on your own, knowing that the ties to both men existed but who your home was.

Nobody needs to know, all of that merely moments, unconnected to your true life.

Spring 2016 – Bucharest, Romania

You see him one last time as you lay in a hospital bed. He hovers just outside your door wearing the medical scrubs of the other nurses.

“Jane?” You draw your granddaughter’s attention from her book as she’s curled up in what can only be a moderately comfortable chair at your bedside.

“Yes, Gran?”

“Be a dear and go get me a real cup tea? You said there’s a good café just down at the corner, right?”

She stands and smiles. “I did. And if you’re craving tea, you must be feeling a little better.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “It will be good for you to stretch your legs, too.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll just wait here.”

She grins and shakes her head. “You better. No adventures without me.”

She slips her jacket on and slips out of your room.

A moment later, he enters.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smirks. “You know who I actually am.”

You nod. “How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you collapse this morning in the museum.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious,” you say as he reaches for your charts.

“Cardiac arrhythmias.”

“Heart palpitations. Light fainting spell this morning. It hasn’t happened for a few years, and I hadn’t been eating properly the last few days. They’re keeping me for observation for twenty-four hours and then they’ll let me go if my heart behaves.”

“Good, you should have a good few years ahead of you still,” he says, almost admonishingly.

He stands at the side of your bed, but at the very foot of it seemingly trying to keep his distance, as if he doesn’t trust himself around others. Now that you know his story, his current behavior makes sense – especially why he was guarded but never hesitant before but keeps that buffer of distance now.

“She looks like you.”

“Jane? She’s a beautiful and brilliant young woman,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face. “I’ll never admit aloud that she’s my favorite grandchild though.”

He doesn’t respond but gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“She’s my traveling companion for a grand adventure around Europe.”

“It’s only the two of you here in Bucharest?”

You hesitate before answering. “Yes.”

This ageless Peter Pan could capture her easily into his orbit. She’s twenty-one, the same age you were when you first ran into the Winter Soldier. He must suspect that’s what you’re thinking.

“I’ll make sure she stays safe.”

“She’s young.”

“No younger than you were when we met.”

The heat rises in your cheeks. “It’s different.”

He nods and you notice his face soften slightly. “It is. I’m ancient.”

“Come sit by me, old man.” You motion to the chair next to your bed, and he comes forward and takes a seat, perching on the edge, back ramrod straight.

“You said you saw us at the museum. Why do I have the feeling you’ve been watching us since before today?”

He regards you for just a split second before answering. “I stay near the train station, close enough to leave town quickly if I need to. I saw you arrive two nights ago when I was walking back to my place.”

“How often did you see me before I saw you?”

“Every time. There were times you never knew I was there.”

“Were you checking up on me?”

He shook his head. “Not at first. St. Tropez, Dallas, Milan, DC, and Seattle were purely circumstantial, but after DC I did check on where you were when I could.”

“But how did you remember me when they took so much else away from you?”

His face churns out a wry, bitter smile. “Yeah, they took away a lot of who I was, tried to overwrite my memories and what I knew before they took me, but after the initial programming,” his tone with that particular word is more vitriolic than the rest, ”they thought it was good for me to have context and history for the missions they sent me on, the new skills I learned, knowledge I acquired. Wiping was messy, and they had to know what to wipe. You were never an interference of any kind all those years and part of the Winter Soldier – part of me – I think never gave them a hint of your existence because I knew they knew everything else about me, had control over everything, and I didn’t want to risk losing this one piece I had found outside of what they made me. The Winter Soldier wanted the secret and thank God for that because If they’d ever found out about you...”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. He studies the pattern of the hospital bedding, and it gives you a moment to study his face – you’re sure he knows this, allows it.

After a moment, you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much in all our meetings over the years.”

“I didn’t converse much as the Winter Soldier,” he replies, his eyes meeting yours again, his entire presence softening just a degree. “It’s still not something I’m used to yet.”

“I know so much about you now, and I thought I’d have a hundred questions to ask if I ever saw you again, but…”

“But?”

“But I imagine you are still searching and want answers about your own more than I do.” You move your hand to the edge of the bed and offer him your palm. “So just sit with me.”

You almost thought he would refuse, but he removes the glove from his right hand and then carefully puts his hand in yours, his gaze returning to your face.

“Just this afternoon.”

“Just us.”

You brush your thumb over the back of his hand. There isn’t heat between you today, but there’s still a closeness that is only the two of you.

2026

The next and last time he sees you is from a distance, laid to rest in a beautifully polished wooden casket covered in an abundant spray of white flowers, surrounded in a sea of people in black. He recognizes Jane among them, as well. Though the Winter Soldier had claimed a piece of you belonged to him, destiny entwining your paths too many times in those early years, he could see now and had always been glad to know you had a full life outside your scattered encounters. He sends his goodbye silently across the cemetery from where he watches unseen, and finally slips away.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you want to see more of this, anything else I'm working on, or chat about anything about my stories, MY ASKBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!

VERY INFORMAL HISTORICAL/TIMELINE NOTES:

St. Tropez 1961 = St. Tropez was a big port for shipping at the time, so these deaths were two problematic traders making moving things in and out of the port difficult for Hydra.

Dallas 1963 = Assassination of President John F. Kennedy

Milan 1972 = From Wikipedia: Giangiacomo Feltrinelli (45), who had during the 1950s published the smuggled manuscript of Boris Pasternak's novel Doctor Zhivago, but later became a left-wing militant during Italy's Years of Lead, was found dead at the base of a power-line transmission tower outside Segrate, near his native Milan, on 15 March 1972. It was believed that he had died when a bomb he was attempting to plant on the tower went off, and later testimony by other members of the Red Brigades supported this. However, the death was always viewed suspiciously, and in the 2010s forensic reports surfaced that suggested he had been tied to the tower before the bomb went off, with various intelligence agencies inside and outside of Italy suspected of responsibility.

…sounds like the Winter Soldier to me.

Washington 1991 = Howard and Maria Stark and the acquisition of the newly developed super soldier serum.

Seattle 2001 = Unsolved murder of former US Attorney General Thomas Crane Wales, announced by the FBI in 2018 to likely have been the work of a paid hitman – or the Winter Soldier.

2014 = Aftermath of Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Romania 2016 = Theoretically just before the events of Captain America: Civil War.

2026 = arbitrary future date, Bucky just came to pay his respects, no mission or happenstance connected

#bucky x yn #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes smut #smut #peter pan influence #aspen wrote something #female reader

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violet0182 · 7 months

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vinnie is the type of boyfriend that would hold you by the back of your neck if you walking with him like if your in a store you two would be looking at something and he would be holding the back of your neck

#vinnie hacker #vinnie x y/n #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie vincent #tiktok #influencers

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bejeweledaus · 5 months

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CELEBRITY CRUSH | Quinn Hughes au!

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summary: in which an influencer reveals her celebrity crush on her YouTube channel which leads back to him and sparks the beginning of their love story.

pairing: quinn hughes x influencer!reader

social media fic

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chapter index:

• PROLOGUE

• CHAPTER ONE

• CHAPTER TWO

• CHAPTER THREE

• CHAPTER FOUR

• CHAPTER FIVE | THE END

#quinn hughes #qh88 #vancover canucks #qhughes88 #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #national hockey league #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes imagine #influencer!reader #female!reader #x reader #reader insert #hockey x reader

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headfullofpresley · 8 months

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The Curious Female • a Porn director!Elvis AU

“He walked into her heart as if he always belonged there, took down her walls and lit her soul on fire.”

This was originally meant to be a one shot, but as I got to writing, more and more ideas started popping into my head so I have decided to make it a mini series! This series will obviously contain smut, but most likely also darker subjects such as drug (ab)use and situations that may not be the most female friendly - read at your own risk, lovelies.

Chapter 1 will be up today!

#was heavily influenced by the deuce for this with my own lil twist so im excited for this #chapter 1 tonight!#tamwrites #elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis au #elvis presley au #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #moodboard #elvis moodboard

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 2 years

Note

HI I don’t know if your request are open so I figured I would send one anyway and then if they were closed you could just ignore it lol

BUT I had this idea and it’s been in my head for days and I don’t feel like writing it myself soooooo

Do you think you can do a one-shot or, yk, whatever you’re comfortable with, for a Legolas x Reader where the reader is kinda like Jaskier? Like they’re dramatic af, are a bard, and isn’t an elf but has somehow just been alive and in peak condition for way longer then they should’ve been? Like Legolas and Reader don’t really get along at first when they met because Reader was traveling with Thorin and Company and stuff and even after he figured out they weren’t bad he was still like “my GOD are they annoying.”

And then Gandalf seeks them out after the fellowship is formed they’re actually super useful bc they know like 10 languages, have traveled almost everywhere, and is actually very good with a sword. Gandalf brings the fellowship to a seemingly random tavern and Legolas just stops bc he recognizes them immediately and is just like “oh my god, PLEASE NOT THEM FU—“

But yk after that they like fall in love and shiz 🙄

SORRY THIS IS LIKE SO SPECIFIC OR UR NOT TAKING REQUEST it’s just I love ur writing, no other lotr blogs I’ve found are taking request, and also you seem to like Jaskier so I figured u might enjoy this a little ?? 😭😭

ANYWAYS EVEN IF YOU DON’T WRITE THIS THANKS FOR READING IT AND I LOVE UR WRITING SM ITS SO GOOD 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Sing Me A River (Legolas x Bard! Reader)

Author’s Note: HELLOOOO, FELLOW DEAR HEART! My requests technically are always open, it’s just a matter of if I ever get around to them lmao. Naturally, I get a lot of requests. Even more naturally, someone requests something and throws the word ‘Jaskier’ in there I’m writing this baby ASAP. Now, this thing grew legs of its own so you’ll probably have to request a part two in the asks so I can get that to you. I just really wanted to put something out tonight, so boom, two-parter. Maybe three. Hey, let’s just see where it goes. Now, believe me when I say I tried to find a gif that wasn’t Jaskier, but apparently if you type in ‘medieval bard lute gif’ into Google images Jaskier is the golden child of the hour. Anywhooooo hope this is what you were going for! I’ll get onto part two soon — you just gotta put it in the asks!

Warnings: Crude jokes made by reader all for the sake of the guts and glory of an epic banger of a song. Mentions adult content. (Bards will be bards).

Synopsis: Like all relevant characters of Middle-earth back in the day, you joined the Company on their Go-Fund-Me campaign to reclaim Erebor. You were a nobody bard back then but the success of your relations with kings and stories of defeating dragons made you a big hit. Speaking of hit, you and Legolas don’t get on. You made one too many hits about him that painted his royal family in a bad light. Oops. Now, Sauron is back and the Fellowship may just need your help. It’s mostly just Gandalf vouching for you, though. Oh, and fangirl Boromir ofc. They find you singing a frankly defamatory song about Legolas in a lively tavern at the height of your fame (you’re essentially One Direction circa 2012 big in Middle-earth in this fic). Tension brews as you’re ultimately asked to join a second Go-Fund-Me campaign.

The evening was late in hour but early of chores, as Gandalf and Elrond poured themselves over maps of Middle-earth. Various members of the newly-formed Fellowship hung about the open-aired room, pondering each other with curious glances.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, wondering who’d prove to be the best travel mate for the next few months. It was as if no one knew what to do with their hands or feet, as they stood about awkwardly.

What was there to talk about, anyway? Economic investments and the rising housing crisis in the wake of the upcoming war? With so many races in the room, it was hard to navigate cultural customs, let alone figure out who was of what social standing based on clothing alone. A prince certainly had no place discussing such mutual matters with a gardener, nor a Captain of Gondor with a ranger.

No, it was best everyone waited until Gandalf and Elrond announced a travel route.

“This would steer you best from the path of both Isengard and its scouts,” Elrond concluded, pointing and dragging one finger down the tattered map.

“That’ll bring us into long-overrun townships,” Gandalf pointed out. “Middle-earth is no longer the safely presumptuous-centric land it used to be. People from all over Arda have now flocked for its resources and previously-thought safety.”

“Secrecy is best bought when surrounded by languages that cannot understand you nor you them,” Elrond countered, raising a brow and looking up at the wizard.

Gandalf raised a hand and scratched at his wiry beard. “No… But perhaps we could benefit from an additional team member for the passage? One who knows, say, ten languages across the seas and land underfoot?”

Elrond’s face quickly fell into disapproval. He moved back from the map as if standing too close to it would conjure up the bard’s presence alone, for said bard certainly dwelled somewhere within it, if the local posters unceremoniously plastered on historical podiums in Rivendell detailing the latest show were proof enough alone.

Legolas noticed this behaviour and kicked himself off the wall. He’d had run-ins with bards before – or, one, at least, and one was certainly enough. He quit twirling a knife in his hands, a gift from his father for his begetday long ago, and paid close attention.

“Ten languages would most certainly aid you, but…” the usually reserved lord made a face of cringe, “must you really bring along your friend? Do you even know where they are?”

Gandalf suddenly looked bashful. He reached into his satchel and removed a flyer. It had your pouty face on it and colourful words detailing where your next show was and the date. “I meant to visit them for one of their shows, before getting side-tracked…”

Elrond tried to not judge his friend, as he glanced up from your poster and back to Gandalf. He raised his brows and sighed, resigning himself to the idea. You had certainly grown in fame over the last few decades since your efforts in fighting the dragon fueled your reputation and songs, and certainly the fame had added to your already eccentric ego.

“Very well, if that is your will, I will support it… Just, don’t invite them back for a concert, please; my sons are still recovering from the last one, as is my winery.”

Gandalf nodded at the lord and smiled. “Nonsense, our bard is of the utmost integrity. I have nothing but faith.”

Legolas looked between the lord and wizard, quirking a brow. He tried to view the poster before it was placed back inside the satchel, but alas Gandalf unknowingly blocked his view.

But then, the prince suddenly recalled you in full detail from the fight against the dragon, and your time spent in the Mirkwood dungeons. You were clearly mortal, and that was many years ago.

Satisfied with the thought, Legolas nodded to himself in reassurance. There was no way you were still alive and kicking. With any luck, you were fast asleep in a chair somewhere, millions of leagues away.

Oh, you were in a chair alright. Except standing on top of it, one foot on the backrest and one on the seat. You certainly weren’t asleep, either, nor was your performance lulling anyone into such a slumber. There would be no lullabies here tonight, good sir.

Instead, on top of the chair, you belted out lyrics to the song you wrote about your time captured in Mirkwood with the Company, using the foot on the backrest to push the chair downwards, where you dramatically landed on the floor and kept on playing around the lively tavern with your lute.

Folks of all nationalities and origins joined in, for how could they not? You knew how to play the song in over ten different languages and were finally onto the Common Speech version. Everyone sung along as you made your way around the floor, illuminated in a thousand different arrays of golden candlelight.

You alluded to the Mirkwood Elves being absolute idiots, to put it lightly. It was only unfortunate that the Fellowship, led by Gandalf, walked in the moment you made a crude innuendo about Legolas’ hair being nearly as pasty as the spider’s webs surrounding his forested home. Something about incest, too.

It wasn’t very nice, but what could you say? You hated the pretentious white-haired family and they you. Perhaps composing a ballad with the dwarves about the elves’ wine-stained teeth in the dungeons planted the seed of distaste in the first place, but alas.

Gimli clapped his hands merrily and tapped his foot. “Oh-ho-ho! ‘Tis a CLASSIC back home! I’ve been meaning to meet the bard from my father’s tales for many years now! What an honourable night. Let us drink to it!”

Pippin nodded faster than light at Gimli and then Merry, speaking before racing off with his cousin and dwarven friend to the bar.

“Aye! We’ve heard this one, too! Even all the way out in the Shire!” Pippin looked up at Legolas, who’d just walked in with Aragorn right behind him. “Funny, I didn’t know there were other white-haired elves such as yourself and your father in Mirkwood, your highness. What are the chances of that!”

Just then, you sung of Legolas by title and name, confirming every crude lyric to be indeed about him towards the end of the song. Something mean about his father, too.

Pippin’s mouth parted and his brows shot up in surprise. He quickly shrugged it off, though – looking up at the elf casually before joining Merry and Gimli by the bar. “Oh, they are singing about you! That makes more sense!”

Legolas furrowed his own brows, looking away from the departing hobbit and across the tavern right as you came to the finale of the song, earning rapturous applause. And then, his eyes grew wide.

Gandalf looked bashful as he stood with Boromir. The captain was grinning at your performance – whistling as you took a dramatic bow as the cheers carried on. Frodo and Sam looked between each other but shared a silent nod, and afterwards, they joined the rest at the bar.

Seething, the prince snapped his gaze up at Gandalf. “THEM? Are you SERIOUS? How could you possibly not tell me?! They are the most arrogant, dim-witted, crude, annoying—”

“Now, now, Legolas,” Gandalf cut in, placing a hand on the swiftly rising elf’s shoulders. “Y/n and yourself may have an… adverse history, but that whole Mirkwood incident was put to rest years ago. If I recall, you both parted ways amicably at the end of the battle. There may have even been a smile, too, if I recall very well!”

“Overjoyed to be rid, as I remember it,” Legolas rolled his eyes, landing them in your direction. You took a sip of ale and felt a gaze, or, glare, lingering in your direction. When you locked eyes with the angry ones of the prince, you widened them for only a moment, before narrowing them and smirking mischievously.

Oh, he didn’t like that.

Hoisting your sloshing ale out to the side, you widened both arms. You were stood atop a tavern table, now pointing in the prince’s direction.

“Oh, my stars! Do my eyes deceive me?” Your naturally loud voice caught the attention of the tavern again, who all no doubt were hoping for an encore. “Ladies and gentleman, if it isn’t the star of the hour! Well, besides me, of course – but no, I should share the limelight; it’s the muse of my song, Legolas of the Woodland Realm!”

Everyone all looked in his direction. Many laughed loudly, some whistled appreciatively, and others who believed the lyrics muttered behind cupped hands to conceal their words and grins.

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t good to bring this much attention to themselves, especially given the circumstances. One look from Aragorn sent up at Gandalf voiced his concern. The wizard nodded back and drew you over with a beckoning hand.

You finished off the rest of your ale and encouraged other bards to pick up the music again. Once the sound of flutes and lutes filled the air, you made your way through the crowd, placing your hand over your heart and responding earnestly to every compliment as you walked past.

"Y/n! I saw you play when I was a child!"

"My niece is a HUGE fan!"

"Do you sing at weddings?!"

And soon enough, you were in front of the trio.

“Gandalf the Grey,” you grinned up, slinging your lute across your back.

He responded warmly, throwing your bard title in as he did so. “You’ve exceeded your previous standing upon the pedestal of fame. Apparently, this song has been heard all over the land.”

At the mention of the song, you turned to Legolas. “Ahh, has it now? Judging by the star-struck expression upon your oddly fine-tuned visage, I’m guessing this is your first time?”

Legolas narrowed his eyes and kept them locked on yours. “First and last time.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Aw, buddy. Don’t worry. Being a two-thousand-year-old virgin isn’t that weird. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

His face dropped. “Wha—No! That’s not at all what I—”

“I must say, dear bard,” Boromir cut in, firmly shaking your hand. “My little brother and I have seen you perform in Gondor before, and we are both great admirers of your work. Might I please trouble you for a signature made out to ‘Faramir’? I might not get this opportunity again.”

You shrugged it off coolly. “Yeah, sure! Always happy to meet a fan!”

Legolas stared in horror at the interaction for a moment. “What is happening right now..?”

Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped in. “Y/n, I’m afraid we have not only come for review of your work tonight.”

At that, he looked up at Gandalf urgingly. The wizard sighed and nodded. “Indeed not. Might there be somewhere more private we can talk?”

Briefly looking up from the signature you were writing on a handkerchief, you nodded your head from side to side in thought and pursed your lips, speaking as you wrote. “I’ve got a room here. I’m not sure we’ll all fit, but I suppose we can figure something out."

You sent a wink Legolas’ way, whose face was still frozen somewhere between contemplation, shock, and horror.

“You should be dead,” he decided upon moments later.

Feigning alarm, you looked over your shoulder. “Why? The song really that bad? You hired the world’s worst assassin to take me out and they couldn’t even finish the job?”

Learning how to dance with your words again, Legolas replied straight to the point. “You look the same as you did all those years ago. You’re mortal. You should be dead, or very, very elderly, at the least.”

You blinked back at him. “Was there a question in there somewhere, or…?”

Noticing all the attention you were drawing, Gandalf and Aragorn decided to usher this meeting along elsewhere.

“Ah, Y/n,” Gandalf slid in, smiling tensely as he noticed Legolas’ fingers curl backwards, as if instinctively reaching for his bow. “Perhaps we should continue this upstairs? We have much to discuss, as mentioned before.”

You raked your eyes over the prince’s face for a further few seconds. He all but glared back. You dropped your eyes to his hands, noticing the way they curled the same as the wizard did. Smirking, you looked back up into the prince’s eyes – locking them there as you responded to Gandalf.

“Great idea.”

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