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rosewaterandivy · 1 month

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symptoms of the culture

Summary: Last call at the bar and you’re still here? Jesus Christ girl, get yourself together!

Pairing: e.m. x f!reader

W.C.: 1.9k

A/N: a continuation of our meet cute with eddie ☺️

Meeting Eddie at the bar was like something from a romantic comedy, and unlike everything you’d experienced before.

He did end up letting you buy that drink after all, which turned in to him buying you a drink because “it’s the polite thing to do.”

Your friend checked in maybe once or twice before deciding you could handle yourself, if it came to that (she didn’t seem to think that would be the case though). The crowd had dwindled down to mostly the regulars and friends of the bartenders, and you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until someone bellowed, “Last call!”

Eddie’s deft fingers traced the rings of condensation on the wooden table, dragging droplets of water into various shapes. Enthralled, you quickly realized that you could watch him do something like that all day, if you weren't careful.

“Shit,” You say, downing the last of your beer, “I didn’t mean to hold you up for so long.”

His lips kick up to one side, dimples prominent despite the low light. There’s a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down, a slow assessment that has you shifting in your seat.

“Riddle me this, sugar,” He says drumming his fingers on the table, “You really think there’s any place I’d rather be?”

And with that, he leaves to pay the tab, leaving his question hanging in the air.

Not that you could have formulated a semblance of a response anyway. Grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair, you shove your free hand into your purse to scrounge up your card to cover the tab as you sidle up beside him at the bar top.

Eddie’s got two bills in front of him, one large hand over each so you can’t figure out which is yours. Going to pluck either one from his grasp is useless, and after the second attempt, he simply holds it above your head and out of your reach.

“Try me, short stuff,” He taunts with a huff of a laugh. “Besides, your money’s no good here.”

Thinking twice before you could potentially demean yourself by actually jumping up to steal the bill from him, you turn to the bartender with a smile instead to ask:

“Can you print another bill please?”

And once you’ve supplied your last name, it should be a done deal. You expect him to reply with a nod and a ‘you got it’, accompanied by the familiar sound of a receipt being printed.

Instead, it goes a little something like this:

The bartender turns to glance at Eddie, and he gives the bartender some sort of look— which, what would the bartender need approval from a patron? Then, he shoves both receipts into the jar by the register and leans against the bar top and props an elbow on it as he faces you, like he’s waiting for something.

“Can’t do it.” The bartender sighs, “The bossman says you’re money’s no good here, them’s the rules.”

You try, and fail, to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Y-you own this bar? You’re that Eddie?”

“In the flesh and at your service.”

A beat of silence passes between you as the bartender clears his throat and begins closing preparations.

“Well, technically,” Eddie allows, with a twist of his lips, “I co-own it with a buddy of mine. This and couple of other places around town.”

And, well. For someone who dresses like they should be in a biker gang or fronting a prog-metal band, Eddie sure didn’t strike you as a real estate mogul.

“That’s cool,” You say with a nod, hand shoved into your purse once more. Rifling around a bit, you come back with a glorious fist of cash and shove it into the kitty near the register that simply reads, Alms for the pour.

“Soooo,” He drawls, the awkward end of the night coming upon you rapidly. “You good to drive or…?”

“Oh, no worries,” You say flippantly, quickly debating whether your should call an Uber at the hour of just suck it up and walk home. You could cut through campus and maybe shave five minutes off of the journey, anyway.

“I can get you an Uber—”

“No, it’s fine, really.” You adjust the shoulder strap of your bag and grab your keys, “I live just off the campus, it’s walkable from here.”

Eddie’s fingers loop around your wrist before you can say your goodbyes and high-tail it out of there. The silver of his rings glints in the light and the cool metal contrasts with the warmth of his hand as it engulfs yours.

“Nuh uh, not happening.” His tone leaves no room for discussion. “I’m not gonna let you walk—”

“It’s not even a mile!” You interject, “I cut through campus and skirt the park and I’m golden.”

“The park? At three in the morning?” He shakes his head, fingers forming a bracelet around your wrist, “Not even sorry to say, that is unequivocally not happening.”

Eddie tugs you with him as he passes behind the bar and down a small corridor to the back office.

“You good closing on your own Matty?”

The bartender, Matty, you assume, nods with an easy smile.

“Sure, Ed.”

Eddie releases your hand to grab a backpack and a helmet. He tosses the bag to you saying, “Throw your purse in there, you don’t mind wearing that on the bike, right?”

“I really am fine walking home, I haven’t fallen or stumbled in years,” You say as he turns back around, “That’s how good I am.”

“It’s not your walking capabilities I’m worried about here, sugar.” He holds the black helmet in his hands, fingers drumming on the closed visor. “It’s the creeps.”

“This from you, the man that very nearly creeped me out earlier tonight?”

Matty fails to stifle his laugh from the desk.

Eddie rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Yeah, laugh it up newbie.” Taking you by the shoulder, he steers you toward the service entrance and you find yourself not even trying to come up with excuses anymore.

Well, except for:

“Oh, you meant bike as in motorcycle.”

He snorts from behind you, finishing the job of zipping the backpack, now containing your purse, and looping the straps around your shoulders.

“Well it’s certainly not a pennyfarthing, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“I’ve never been on one before.”

“No time like the present.”

Clapping you on the shoulder, he turns you around to face him and pries a hair tie from his wrist. You take it from his outstretched hand, your fingertips brushing for a fleeting moment. Without much fuss, you throw your hair into a loose bun at the nape of your neck.

“May I?” Eddie asks, presenting you with the helmet.

After you nod, he deftly flips the helmet around and takes a step closer to place it on your head. It’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll have to do. He has you shake your head left and right, then up and down before he’s satisfied you won’t crack your skull on the pavement.

In a few strides he’s near the bike, and mounting it in one fluid motion. His legs are long and pretty fucking perfect for, oh you don’t know, maybe straddling later yourself.

But now you’re just getting ahead of things.

You follow his lead and step toward the bike; taking his offered hand as you find your seat behind him.

“So,” Eddie says leaning to start up the bike, once he’s satisfied that your feet are on the foot rest. “All you really gotta do is hold on.”

Your hands go to his shoulders and you can feel them rise with his soft chuckle.

“That’s cute,” He says, taking both your hands in his and moving them to his waist, which causes you to bridge the few inches of space between your bodies to accomodate the movement.

I mean, there are worse things than having your tits smooshed up against some guy’s back on a motorcycle, right?

“You good?”

And you can barely hear him over the rev of the engine, so you nod and raise your voice to rattle out your address. He half-turns toward you, eyes finding yours through the visor of the helmet and giving you a wink.

He grips the handles, pulls the clutch, and kicks off.

“Alright, sugar, let’s get you home.”

Holding on for dear life, you quickly learn that as he leans, you lean. There’s a lot of movement on a bike that you hadn’t anticipated, so much so that Eddie’s shirt, at some point, rides up his abdomen. Too busy gawking at the sights and sounds of your first motorcycle ride, you don’t notice the subtle warming of your fingertips against his bare skin until it’s too late.

You were confident that the sound of the engine would drown out the unfortunate squeak that escaped your mouth, but at the feeling of Eddie’s stomach muscles contracting in what could only be laughter, and the shaking of his shoulders, now has you second guessing yourself.

Oh, well.

Rolling to a smooth stop in front of your apartment, he kills the engine and helps you off the bike.

Back on solid ground, you slough off the backpack and unzip it to grab your purse and keys. You pass it back to him and remove the helmet, mourning briefly the soft scent of tobacco and clary sage— his cologne, maybe?

Hooking a finger through the hair tie at the back of your neck, you pull it out, and shake your hair from its confines before offering it back to him.

Eddie just smiles with a shake of his head, “Nah, keep it— I gotta million of ‘em.”

He stays seated on the bike, eyes whiskey-warm and crinkling at the edges. With a shrug, you push the elastic up and around your hand to settle on your wrist.

It’s relatively quiet for a winter’s night around the campus, all the undergrads gone home for the holidays and not expected back until mid-January. A brisk wind blows and a shiver runs through you, one hand rubbing furiously along your arm, while the other grips the helmet resting against your hip.

All the while, Eddie simply sits there to drink you in. Eyes roving across the full of your cheeks, the elegant slope of your neck and the necklaces strung there. Your hair wild and waving in the breeze. And even if it’s cold outside, he can’t bring himself to notice— not with you looking like that standing there before him.

“Hey, Eddie,” You say, stepping toward him. Taking the helmet in both hands, you put it on for him and have half a mind to make him go through the head shaking nonsense he was adamant over back at the bar. But it fits him perfectly, just your luck.

Before stepping back and retreating into your apartment, he takes your hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze. You can feel the heat skittering under your skin, terribly welcome in the cold morning air.

Squeezing his fingers back in return, you part with a soft, “Happy New Year.”

He watches as you open the front door of your ground floor apartment, giving him a shy wave as a dog barks from somewhere behind you. He can see your lips moving as you turn back to say something to the dog, smiling as you bend to greet them.

Kicking off as the door closes and the lights flick on in your home, Eddie cruises down the deserted street with a smile on his face.

And maybe, this could turn out to be his year after all.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #fic: ml #Spotify

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greyskyflowers · 2 years

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Unlikely or unexplored friendships that bring me great joy to think about:

Usopp and Buggy telling wild and clearly complete bullshit stories to each other. Neither one can tell if the other knows everything they're saying is made up and there's a begrudging mutual respect. They're both clowns tbh.

Nami and Boa because people think they'd hate each other but they're all about that w|w solidarity. They're well on their way to taking over the world and getting absolutely everything they want. Both are well versed in using their looks and charm to get what they want and also getting people to let their guard down before going in for the kill. Boa is quite fond of Vivi, queens respecting queens.

Robin and Law is a friendship no one saw coming. They always share the best tips for getting blood out of clothes and like to debate on whether it's more fun to kill someone with their hands or with their devil fruits powers. They creep everybody out but each crew is happy that they have someone to be morbid with.

Zoro and Kidd/Killer are drinking buddies and every interaction ends with a fight. They either have to be forcibly separated or wait until they pass out from blood loss. They hate ending a fight before a winner though, even when they're injured. Usually they try to argue they're still good to go when getting dragged apart, something similar to it's just a flesh wound.

Franky and Garp. Listen I have no idea why but I just imagine these two idiots causing chaos. Super loud laughter and smacking each other's back progressively harder and harder and pretending everything is fine until they're just straight up fighting. Dad vibes from both even though Garp is dead to me after Marineford.

Chopper and Shanks, who has no idea what this little furry thing is but he's absolutely 100% here for it. Loves the fact that Luffy's crew gets stranger and stranger everytime they add someone. Chopper loves to hear Shanks tell stories of all his adventures and lectures him about his health with Benn standing beside him nodding along.

Brook and Mihawk being bros and loving each other's dark vibes. Mihawk refuses to acknowledge Zoro's taunts about secretly fangirling over the fact that he can be friends with a skeleton.

Luffy and Marco sharing stories about Ace. They both feel like they need to keep an eye on the other in honor of him and that leads to them being pretty up to date on all their latest adventures. Marco's grown very fond of Luffy.

Sanji and Izou because I have a feeling they're both familiar with the whole im going to underestimate and undermine you because your a 'pretty boy.' They have bitching sessions because they can't understand what's wrong with taking pride in the way you look? It's not their fault everyone is always a fucking mess.

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madefordvarka · 10 months

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Made For This

He swallows.

Gabriel Soma hears the way his heart pounds in his ears. Gloved hands fly to meet the metallic crown that sits around his head, as shaky fingertips dance across cold metal.

Fuck.

He feels the panic set in- it’s jarring how quickly he feels himself tense up in fear.

It isn't often that he feels this way, he prides himself in keeping level headed at all times yet his heart leaps in his throat regardless.

It’s her, he thinks, as hands fall to his lap. The trap secured around his head is claustrophobic and terrifying, the design is unmistakably hers.

And he knows he’s never lucky when he crosses paths with Amanda.

Little Miss Piggy is the scariest Killer in Gabriel’s opinion, if only because her traps are so unpredictable.

As an engineer he appreciates them- they’re impeccably designed, the craftsmanship is superb.

But as a Survivor?

They’re terrifying.

There are arguably more dangerous Killers- ones that are more disgusting, horrifying, like Hux strung together by the flesh of his friends.

But none of them have the unpredictability that Amanda does.

Escaping her?

Well that’s just sheer luck.

Gabriel forces himself to stand, and ushers himself forwards with a deep breath.

He knows Renato is in this Trial- he wants to find him and make sure he’s alright before he focuses on himself.

That’s the opposite of what he’s supposed to do, yet he does it each time regardless of his team’s wishes.

Gabriel is never one to be selfish, yet when it comes to Renato he finds himself losing all inhibitions.

His heart always guides him when it comes to Renato, and Gabriel thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way despite the safety it would bring.

So rubber boots continue to meet the concrete floors of Gideon, and eventually he comes across the man he’s been searching for.

He finds Renato with his trap removed- the only reminder being the gash on his cheek.

Gabriel wants to smile but doesn’t, and crouches next to the man whose hair has recently turned the shade of fresh honey.

He doesn’t ask about his hair- it was either The Entity or Thalita, and frankly Gabriel feels it’s unimportant.

“Get your trap off, Gabriel,” Renato says, hardly looking up from the generator he’s focused on. He twists the wires, only to accidentally connect one that’s wrong. The generator backfires, and Gabriel watches as Renato grits his teeth in frustration.

Gabriel shakes his head- the trap was next on his to-do list, but his first order was to fix the wound on Renato’s cheek.

“I will,” He answers, as he reaches for Renato’s chin, “But you’re a mess yourself.”

Hazel eyes glare back at him, yet Renato says nothing in protest.

He knows how this goes by now- Gabriel insists on being the one that cares for Renato since he refuses to put himself first in the Trials.

Gabriel’s seen him torn apart for others far too much- it breaks his heart every time and he wants to prevent it as he’s able to.

Gabriel is tough- he was created to be durable.

Expendable.

Taking care of Renato reminds him of his humanity- or teaches him that what he has is in fact humanity.

Despite everything, here in the Fog, Gabriel Soma is human, just like everybody else.

There are no moral dilemmas- no debates on whether or not he’s worth as much as his original.

Renato’s proven this to him time and time again, and Gabriel owes it to him to care for him when he’s hurt.

It’s the least he can do.

With a sigh, Gabriel reaches for his med kit, and rumages until he finds a cloth to clean Renato’s face. The gesture feels intimate, almost too intimate as he considers the circumstances they find themselves in. If it wasn’t for the trap on his head, he’d have felt at peace, but the ding of a generator in the distance causes panic to once again race through him.

Now he’s actually in trouble, and Renato stares at him eyes wide with absolute terror.

“Go!” Renato urges, as he reaches to push Gabriel away from him, “I’m fine!”

Gabriel nods curtly, and hands the medkit back to Renato.

Feet once again carry him through Gideon, as the remaining generators slowly begin to pop.

He figures he’s last to get his trap off, his team probably assumes he chose the smart route instead of the smitten and foolish- but he knows he’s made his bed and now must lie in it.

The beeping quickens, it rings in his ears and he feels his heart beating faster and faster until he comes across a panicked Renato standing at the exit gate- with Amanda mere centimeters away.

For a moment they lock eyes, Gabriel can’t leave with the trap on but if he doesn’t open the gate Renato would be next.

Amanda is ruthless, she looks harmless but whatever understanding she had left died long before coming to the Fog.

There is no chance for salvation in a place like this.

Suddenly, Amanda seems disinterested in Renato.

Oh she knows.

Amanda is smart- not just with her traps, but with reading other’s feelings, too.

She knows the emotional anguish she can cause Renato just by forcing him to watch him die.

Gabriel hates being important to someone, he hates that his selfishness and pain hurts Renato.

Renato doesn’t deserve any of this.

Amanda lunges forwards, and lets out an animalistic growl.

She’s smaller than him, yet throws herself into his chest and thrusts her blade into Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel screams.

Through teary vision, he watches as Meg grabs the opportunity to rip open the gate, and yanks Renato to the border between the Realm and the Campfire.

Gabriel feels weak, he feels himself collapse into the ground, hears Renato screaming at Meg to let him go.

No, no, no.

He has to get away- can’t let Renato see him like this. He uses the last of his strength to drag himself across the bloodied concrete to no avail.

He’s too weak- too foolish to fix things.

Amanda’s easily able to straddle his waist and pin him into the concrete.

It’s only a matter of time before his trap explodes, and sends a smattering of gore across the floor of the meat plant.

The woman tilts her head, and lifts her mask ever so slightly.

A cruel smile curls at her lip, and she allows her free hand to gesture towards an inconsolable Renato in the exit gate.

Once again the anxiety settles in, as Amanda finally speaks and Gabriel's world turns to darkness.

Don’t waste your time.

#Dead By Daylight #renato lyra #Gabriel Soma #my writing #I liked this one too so I'm uploading it separate here as well #long post #I keep getting killed by piggie traps

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drhu0806 · 7 months

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21 - "Just in case this doesn't work."

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 (fanfiction) Characters: Tav/custom player character, Jaheira, Minsc Rating: G Warnings: questionable application of magical defibrillation, none

Jaheira cries out as Minsc collapses onto the floor, quite literally breathless as his heart comes to a thundering stop. Boo manages to escape being crushed as he hops out just in time, frantically chittering as he scampers near the ranger’s giant body. Though the fight is done, though every muscle in her body screams in exhaustion, Kainé rushes to his side, struggling to rouse him.

It had been a grueling battle; her spells are all spent, as are Jaheira’s. She presses her fingers under his jawline, giving the other druid a grim look when she doesn’t find a pulse.

“Healing potion?” the Harper prods. Kainé shakes her head.

“I’m out. We’d have to go back to camp to restock, and I don’t think we have the time.”

Besides the stalled heart, Minsc’s injuries are tolerable; if they can just get his heart started again, the worst will have passed.

A scary idea is born within Kainé’s mind. With no explicit healing available, they’re out of tools to keep Minsc alive for the time being. Except…

“Karlach, I need you to book it back to camp and get healing potions,” Kainé orders, hesitating before continuing, “and let Withers know. Just in case this doesn’t work.”

She gives a nod before sprinting off. Jaheira gives the tiefling a confused and urgent look.

“What are you going to do?”

Memories of a fierce tempest, broken trees, and a metallic, electric smell to the air surface within Kainé’s mind. It’s an insane idea, practically counterintuitive to most reasonable folks. But she has to try.

She sends a quick prayer to the Earthmother as she clasps her hands together, blowing into them to comfort herself over what she’s about to do. Sparks begin to crackle over her fingers as she draws what little strength she has left.

Boo squeaks loudly as Jaheira watches with widening eyes. “What in the gods’ names are you—”

There’s no time. “Move!” Kainé snarls as she reaches for Minsc.

The both of them manage to jump away in time as she thrusts her palms onto his chest. She feels the electricity pulse into his body; his body jolts off the ground of its own accord. She fumbles for his pulse, putting an ear over his chest as a secondary measure. When she still feels nothing, she activates the cantrip a second time, sending another shock through his person.

But as she debates whether to try a third time, all of them flinch when Minsc’s eyes fly open, wheezing for air as he lurches up from the ground.

“Ough! Oh, why does Minsc feel as though he has swallowed burning iron?” he gasps. “Last time he has checked, Minsc does not perform work for the circus!”

Kainé lets out a loud grown of relief as she lets herself fall to the ground. Jaheira lets out a long, held breath as she rises, the hamster excitedly crawling up the ranger. He’s left scratching his head, listening to Boo recount the admittedly extremely short amount of time he missed, while the Harper kneels by her fellow druid.

“I’ve lived long enough to see many kinds of insanity, but nothing quite like that,” she chuckles. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Kainé takes a deep breath to calm her own pounding heart before opening her eyes. “Nowhere. I...didn’t know if it would actually work.”

“You’re joking.”

She remembers the split nanosecond of white exploding across her eyes, the electric smokiness of her own flesh being struck by lightning. The intense admonishment she received upon coming to, more than a day later.

“Lightning has stopped my heart before. I figured… Maybe it could do the reverse, and restart one that’s stopped.” She closes her eyes again. “But I would rather not try that again any time soon.”

A voice shouting in the not-too-far distance alerts them to Karlach’s return, and Jaheira shakes her head. The young, she can’t help but marvel. They always manage to surprise her.

#baldur's gate 3 #fictober23 #tav #bg3 tav #my writing #owlscratch #issuing another apology to medical experts out there who know more in depth on how this might work

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

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Dad!Jason and some sex pollen hijinks? Please.

Jason groaned and swallowed hard. It hurt so bad he couldn't even be humiliated hearing people discussing his sex life in the other room. Debating on whether or not to call you.

"It was an accident, I swear!" he heard Ivy protest, "It won't kill him- not. Well. Not if he's got an outlet."

"Flesh Light?" he heard Dick say. Only barely keeping the laugh out of his voice.

"He needs a... body," Pamela said coughing.

"And if there isn't one?" Bruce said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"His temperature will keep rising and his heart will keep racing."

"Should I go ahead and-" Barbara broke off when Jason's groan turned into a needy whine, wincing.

"I'll go," Bruce said, already dreading having to explain this to you. "Someone is going to have to look after Teddy."

---------

"Do you realize how ridiculous this sounds?" you ask, glancing back through the sliding door to make sure Teddy was still occupied with his toys.

"Yes," Bruce answered, "But-" You were taking his rather abbreviated explanation very well. But he could see the gears still spinning. "I wouldn't- well. It's an emergency and um-" He broke off. Not sure how to explain that Jason was asking for you specifically. Or how to bring up birth control. But when you nod, taking a deep breath, he decides discretion is the better part of valor.

______

You barely make it into the room before Jason's lips are on yours and he's torn your sweatshirt to shreds to get his hands on your skin. Anything to touch you. To feel another body against his. And before you can even process what he's doing, your leggings are similarly shredded. His face is buried in the small swell of your belly.

"So fucking pretty," he growled, laying you on the floor and pushing your thighs apart.

"Jay," you gasp, "c'mon."

He grinned, feral and hungry, "What's the matter, mama bear?" he teased slamming his hips into yours with a groan. And he can't tease you anymore. He just can't. There's too much need and you feel too good. The release, and the relief that come with it, take the edge off. Barely. And in next to no time, he's groaning in near agony again.

"Easy," you croon, straddling his hips, "I'm here."

And Jason can do nothing but let you take care of him. Again. And Again. Until the toxin had worked it's way out of his skin. Neutralized.

-------

"We can get emergency contraceptives-" Barbara started, breaking off when you glance at Jason looking flustered.

"It's a little late for that," he admitted, pulling you closer, trying not to grin. This wasn't how he wanted to tell people but- it was a relief to not have to cover for you anymore.

"What!"

Barbara's yelp makes several heads turn and when Teddy, getting a running start, jumps into your arms, you laugh.

"Can I tell people now?" he demanded, pouting.

"Yeah," you laugh, kissing his chubby cheek. "You can tell them, Teddy bear."

And when he wiggled to be put down, you let him go, shaking your head as he races off to go tell anyone he could find that he was going to be a big brother. "He might be worse than you," you hum, watching, leaning into him when he hugs you.

"I had to tell him," Jason protested, kissing your nose, "He thought you were dying when he heard you dry heaving in the bathroom."

"Mhmm," you hum, hiding your face against his chest.

"I hope you're ready," he murmured, "Everyone is going to have a lot of opinions."

"The only one I care about is my boys," you answer, "Just as long as Teddy doesn't feel replaced-"

And all Jason can do is kiss you again, not sure how to tell you how grateful he is that you love them both.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #Teddy!verse #Thirst Trap Thursday #anon ask #ask answered #minors DNI

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

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Gamer boy

Yandere!Shigaraki x reader

NO MINORS

You caught the eye of an obsessive gamer. He's convinced you're perfect for him. So why are you ignoring him?

tw: yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, noncon, alcohol use, degradation, flash photography

You worked at the local gaming cafe. It was a pretty chill job most of the time. The adults who came in didn't care to socialize or cause problems and the school kids would only try to run a muck for a short while until they got entrapped by whatever they were playing. You sat at the help desk, renting out games, consoles, and selling sugary drinks. Easy as pie. Like any cafe, you had regular customers.

Once a week a wild-haired-sloucher would slink up to your desk to rent out a computer mouse and then head to the same computer every time - number 001. After an hour or so he would come up to buy an energy drink.

Of course you didn't know that he came here because Kurogiri would force him out of his cave once a week.

Your first mistake was on his third visit. When he came in you had a computer mouse and his favorite energy drink sitting out for him. The drink was on the house, you smiled. To you, this was a friendly gesture to make sure your reliable customers would keep coming back. To him, this was an offering of your submission. The second sign you gave was asking him if he was going to attend the opening of a new gaming store. He wasn't, obviously, but you wanted him to go, didn't you?

He started keeping tabs on you. To make sure you were worthy, he told himself. He was impressed to find that you actually had a useful quirk. You had a group of friends that lived in your apartment complex. He found it a bit pathetic that you spent so much time with them. But it must be hard for you to not be with him. You must be so lonely when he wasn't around.

Then he began to sneak in to your room, whether you were there or not. Occasionally he would sort through your drawers while you were in the shower; or play whatever game he chose to keep on his phone that week while you slept. When you were away he would take a more thorough inventory. He went through the movies and games piled in your living room. Carefully skimmed through the books on your nightstand. Rummaged through your cabinets and fridge.

Shigaraki was at war with himself on what his next move should be. A piece of him - however small - wanted to go about things like a normal person. But that left too much room for rejection. He was biding his time, trying to develop some form of plan. Until you forced him into action.

It happened during one of the nights he devoted to watching over you. Your friends had finally convinced you to go out with them. Allowing them to play dress up, they put you something too short and too tight for Shigaraki's comfort. They were going to drag you to a bar in that? You were practically begging for men to proposition you. Why did you even own something like that? You knew you belonged to him. Anyone aside from him shouldn't see that amount of your body. The anger was starting to creep over him, his skin becoming too tight until he was forced to seek relief by digging into his neck.

Things only went down hill from there. While you were having a great time, completely unaware of your stalker's presence, Shigaraki sulked angrily along the edge of the club you had been pulled into. You were drunk, although no where near as drunk as your companions and happily in the middle of the dance floor. As you faced your friend, a man wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly against him by the hips. You didn't mind at first, until you realized the man was a complete stranger and not another person you knew. Your shrugged him off and the oaf moved on towards his next prey. It took everything Shigaraki had in him not to end the man's life, along with everyone else in the damn room. But he managed. And you kept dancing, drawing in guys like flies to honey. None of them caught your eye, of course not, even when intoxicated you knew who you belonged to. Obviously, you were using these NEETs to get under Shigaraki's skin. Taunting him for not keeping you in check.

One of the girls you came with had wandered off with some "handsome" stranger and you were the only one with enough wherewithal to go looking for her. You listened to podcasts, Don't let your friends go off alone ESPECIALLY when intoxicated, it was a true crime commandment.

With no luck in the club you ventured outside, breaking the commandment yourself. You weaved around the building, holding on to the wall to keep yourself from stumbling. In the back of the building you ran into a hooded figure.

"Have you seen my friend?"

The figure, Shigaraki, tilted his head. He had two options, take you in this back alley and risk someone hearing you scream, or begin a game of cat and mouse. You just looked so dazed and fuckable.

"Your friends? I'm not sure but I saw two people head that way," He lied and pointed away from the club. "Do you need help looking for them."

You scrunched your nose, genuinely (and drunkenly) debating the idea. Finally you shook your head, "No thanks, stranger danger."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a stranger," he smirked. Finally you realized who the person in front of you was.

With a gasp you giggled, "Gamer boy!"

"Shigaraki," he reminded you, shifting back and forth uncomfortably trying to ease the growing swell in his pants. Why did you have to be so cute?

"Hm, okay then but no funny business."

He smirked as he lead you away from your friends. After a few blocks you were ready to give up, you tend to be a tired drunk and just wanted to go home to your bed. Shigaraki was understanding, probably too understanding, and willing to walk you back to your place. You thanked him, ready to bid him farewell at your door, but he followed you in, convincing your drunk brain that you two should have a drink before he left. You curled yourself into your couch while you listened to your guest.

"Thanks for walking," you yawned, "with me. You're so nice."

Gently the villain lifted you off your feet, "Someone's tired. Let's get you in to bed."

You nodded. Unable to process the impending danger. Until you realized that he was joining you on your bed, starting to tug at your outfit. "Shigi, what are you doing."

"I'm giving you what you want," he said in between nips to your neck and shoulders. "You've been misbehaving all night. Dressing and acting like a slut. Practically offering your body to any undeserving male. If you want to be a whore, then you can be my whore."

A hand slid beneath cotton of your clothes.

He teased your slick flesh, "See how quickly your body reacts to me?"

Your head was spinning, not really processing what he was saying. But you felt good and you wanted to keep feeling good. His unruly hair tickled your nose. You giggled. He latched his lips around your breast, teasing your nipples. One with his tongue, the other with his thumb.

The heat between your legs was becoming unbearable.

"What are you going to do to me?"

He lift his eyes to look up at you, "Such a forgetful thing. I'm gonna pound into your little pussy until you forget that any one besides me exists."

You whined in confusion. Your memory fuzzy on what led up to this moment. Had you brought him home?

He carefully continued to tease your sensitive body. Biting at your thighs and pressing against your soaked panties.

...

"Tell me who you belong to

...

"I'm never letting you get out of bed. I gotta make sure I keep my desperate whore in her place."

...

"Are you begging for my cum? Such a greedy little bitch."

...

"Spread your legs, let me see how pretty you look when you're stuffed with my cum." *flash* "so pretty. You wanna see how god I take care of you?"

...

"Make sure you keep behaving once we get you home. If you misbehave I'll have to hurt another one of your friends."

#yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #Smut

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Best Friends Forever

Summary: Your best friend finally has you back after all these years, tied up on his bed and ready to learn your lesson.

Tw: nsfw, non-con, slight mention of blood, threats, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, cursing, infantilization, possessive behavior, patronizing behavior, overuse of petnames, slight dom vibezz

You knew your boyfriend was a lost cause, an addict so gone he would have done anything for a fix, but you never expected him to stoop so fucking low.

You had woken up in a suspiciously familiar place, laying on sheets oh so soft, puffy and white you simply couldn’t mistake the bed you were on. The walls were painted in black and blue, a combination so deeply engraved in your mind you couldn’t shake off the feeling you weren’t trully conscious, but dreaming of a happy yet distant memory of the past. It took you less than a second to realize you were in his room - the one where you had spent so many joyfull sleepless nights back in your youth. The relief was short - lived, though, because the moment you tried to move around, you became aware of the tight rope keeping your sore limbs tied to the wooden bed frame. After a while of twisting and thrashing around while screaming at the top of your lungs for help you finally heard the door open. You hoped you would at last be able to go home now, still desperate to believe this was merely a prank, a way for your junkie of a boyfriend to scare you into giving him money.

“There is no use trying to escape the bonds, my little love.” His voice emited through the small room, low, smooth as butter and softer than ever. You tried to lift your head and catch a glipse of the person talking, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things or going insane. And there he was in all his glory, the boy, no, the man you knew well looking so different from how you remembered him, but still it felt impossible not to see the many similarities - from the unruly dark curls to the warm gray eyes that used to be your only guide during times of misery and pain. This was none other than your childhood best friend and you had absolutely no idea why you were tied to his bed. “Oliver, why on earth am I here?” You asked as soon as the initial shock had worn off, completely forgetting to address the weird petname the student had called you.

He smirked slightly before crossing the distance keeping him away from you, and carefully sat down by your left side. He reached out to stroke your cheek in an affectionate way, his fingers lingering for a moment too long for it to be considered a mere platonic gesture. You tried to turn your head away from the warm touch since it made you feel uncomfortable and left you with so many new questions. “I missed you so much, precious.” Oliver took a deep breath and smiled at you, gently moving your jawline so you had no choice but to face him once again. “I was so happy when that disgusting piece of shit you call a boyfriend offered you to me.” The man bent to your shoulder-level and whispered in your ear, his tone so full of sick satisfaction you could swear there was honey dripping from his mouth. “I paid a lot of money to have you back, sweetheart.” He licked his lips in an obscene, suggestive way and you had to supress the sudden urge to vomit as you finally remembered exaclty why you had stopped contacting your best friend once you had started college. The boy used to be clingy, obsessive even, but you could have never guessed it was that bad.

“Oliver, please untie me, you are scaring me.” You pleaded in a tiny voice, hoping to summon what was left of the goodness he had tucked away deep in his heart. In response the male only chuckled and shook his head as he placed a small kiss against your neck, causing you to shiver in discomfort and disgust while you were mentally debating whether you wanted to kill him or your ex boyfriend first. Soon your spiteful thoughts were replaced by panic when your captor brought his hand to your t-shirt and started unclasping the small buttons one by one. You couldn’t help but turn red from embarassment the moment you felt your nipples harden under his palm and you became painfully aware you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. Your former friend had your tender breasts exposed to the cold air in a matter of seconds, his terrible fingers already pinching and pulling at the erect tips. “You have such pretty tits, darling.” He said huskily while squeezing your boobs, licking and biting the stretched skin. You hissed in pain and squirmed in a desperate attempt to move away but the rope was holding you in place, tightening around your sore injured wrists even more.

“I have wanted you for so long, angel.” The student admitted quietly, his stormy eyes fixed on yours, his stare so intense it could burn a hole through you. “Tonight I will make you mine.” Oliver declared with a clear sense of confidence and claimed your lips in a quick rough manner, muffling your pitiful whimpers like a man starved and hungry for flesh. The forced kiss and his deranged words made your stomach turn but something in his longing gaze told you there was a lot more in store. The guess, much to your horror, was soon confirmed when the dark - haired male reached down between your parted legs and easily slipped your panties down to your ankles. With your last bit of protection gone you felt awfully vulnerable, literally naked in front of the beast too keen on the past to see how much he was hurting you right now, in the present. You wanted to scream the second his fat grabby fingers pried your folds open, but choking on your desperate sobs proved easier at that moment.

“Aww, don’t cry, angel.” Oliver growled playfully and slid his index into your tight entrance, quickly adding a second one before you had the time to adjust properly. “I have to prepare you, baby, otherwise my cock may just tear you apart.” He remarked in low sickening voice, the excuse too crude and vulgar to be an act of caring. You whined as your walls clenched down tight now that there were three fingers stretching your hole, and you berely managed to utter “too full” before your friend pulled you for a deep kiss again, his tongue devouring your mouth, leaving you breathless and queit while sucking in the sweet pained moans. “You can take it, babygirl.” The man groaned against your swollen red lips and grabbed your hips in a strong hold - you were sure there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

Eventually, after half an hour of pushing his fingers in and out of your channel, lapping at your neck and leaving wet love marks all over your collarbone, the student was satisfied with his work. He had turned you into a whimpering mess and was ready to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his labor, whether you liked it or not. “I am going to put it in now, precious.” Oliver pecked you on the cheek just to lick the salty trace of tears off your puffy skin. “I will force my whole length in your perfect little pussy.” Your captor bit your sensitive earlobe and you broke down in tears like a kid, the threat ringing in your ears like the gospel. “This might hurt a bit so I advise you to stay still and relax, baby.” The way the man continued casually, almost cheerfully, as if he wasn’t about to brutally rape you, made your skin crawl, but there was nothing you could do. You were all tied up, powerless to stop him. Suddenly, without any warning, his hard thick member entered you, piercing pain spreading through your whole body. The student panted in pleasure as soon as he thrust his manhood into your heat, the way it sucked him in leaving him high and blissful. You let a few miserable whimpers, the ache too much to bear, his moves too harsh, sudden and deep.

“Don’t give me such a-agh tormented expression, my love.” Oliver quickly shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth and pressing down to prevent any noise that might have escaped. His gaze was lustful, insane, but also loving in a twisted, perverse way. “Fuck, I love you so much.” He muttered, his voice gentle for a split second before going back to being taunting and mocking. “I used to be so angry each and every time you dated another guy, another asshole who was only after your body.” The man was rambling now, his face turning red at his own vicious thoughts, his growing anger reflecting in his cloudy pupils and his painful thrusts. “You always chose them over me like a stupid little bitch ...” He whispered dangerously and lifted your body towards his own so you could take his hits even deeper, so deep that you could feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix. “Well, now you don’t have a choice, angel. I have claimed you and I will keep you here forever.” You were crying out in agony, your pussy clamping down around the enormous length slapping again and again against your core. It burned so bad you wished you could dissapear somewhere far away just so you could have a moment of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’s almost over, you can take it for me, right?” The male cooed at you, switching back to that disgusting, infantilizing baby voice you had already grown to despise. When you failed to respond he gripped your throat, squeezing so tightly blood rushed to your cheeks and you inhaled sharply though your mouth only to feel the suffocation cut your breath short. “Answer me.” He barked through gritted teeth and you nodded frantically, desperate to gasp for air and cling onto dear life.

“Good girl.” Your former friend purred, pleased with your obedience, and let go of your neck, grabbing your hips instead. You coughed and drooled pathetically until you managed to resume your breathing, but the man, still buried deep inside you, seemed too caught up in chasing his own pleasure to notice how badly he had hurt you. Fortunately for you Oliver was really close, that much was obvious by his furious shoves at your abused cervix and his low growls each time he lowered his head to kiss you. Soon he came with a loud moan, painting your walls white, your ruined hole dripping with his seed and your blood.

Your captor seemed satisfied afterwards, peaceful in a way - there was a small smile adorining his cold lips as he wiped the tears off your face and squished your bruised body against his strong frame in a tight hug. You bit your tongue to stop the tears from overflowing once again, but to no avail. He let you sob in his arms until there wasn’t liquid left in your red, puffy eyes.

“You did very well, my love. I am really proud of you.” Oliver kissed your temple gently, resisting the temptation to graze you all over again with his lips, tongue and fingers. “I will help you clean up, then I will fix you some nice dinner.” He murmured in your ear, tickling the heirs on the back of your neck with his warm breath. “Doesn’t this sound good, baby?”

You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere smut #male yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yancore #male yandere x you

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whatupitsastarrynite · 3 years

Text

Into The Fire

A/N- Goooooood evening everyone! We hope your week started off great and that your Monday hasn't been too terrible! If it by chance has been.... here is a fic? Maybe it will cheer you up???

Thanks for all the support that you have given @starrynite7114 and myself, we appreciate it so so much and we hope you enjoy our first actual fic together!

We love y'all !!! ❤❤❤❤

You groaned, your phone had been ringing nonstop. You had just finished an on call week and all you wanted to do was sleep. But instead, you were being awoken at six at night.

“Fuck I slept the day away.” You sighed. The ringing stopped and you were grateful for that. But before you could even debate whether you wanted to continue to sleep the day away or move, the ringing came again.

Picking up your phone, you saw that it was Bishop. The club president rarely called you, when he usually did, it was to update you on your father who was serving life in prison. You weren’t exactly sure why your tio insisted on giving you updates when you visited your father every two weeks. But you knew it was his way of trying to keep in touch with you.

You let out an annoyed sigh and quickly hit the answer button.

“What is it?” You grumbled as you rubbed your eyes.

“Finally, look, there isn’t time to explain, but we need your help, now, your Tio Marcus got taken earlier and he’s in bad shape.” Bishop quickly explained.

Your stomach dropped. “Where at?”

“The factory.”

You kept medical supplies in your car in case of emergencies and in the event the club came calling. It was rare since Bishop tried to assure you didn’t interact with Angel. Bishop doesn’t know what occurred to cause the falling out between you two and he didn’t bother to question it, all he knew was that he was going to stay out of it and tried to keep you away from one another as much as possible.

Right now, all your drama with Angel was irrelevant. You couldn’t focus on your shit with him, you could only focus on changing your clothes and throwing on your shoes. You gave the house a once over before you grabbed your keys and all but ran out of the house.

You knew the way to the factory like the back of your hand, you had driven it countless times due to this exact reason. You had always made yourself available to the MC any time they needed a patch up, some medicine or even just an ear to listen to their troubles, you were there. You did everything in your power to make sure that your past with Angel didn’t interfere with you helping your family and usually that worked well because you were able to patch up a guy here, listen to one there, and you never crossed paths with Angel. However, there were times like tonight where you had no choice but to see the man.

You were so deep in your troubled thoughts that you barely realized that you had made it to the factory. You parked the car and jumped out, doing a half jog to make it up to the door. With every crunch that your feet took on the gravel, you inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady your nerves. Despite you being one of the top surgeons at your hospital, you still got nervous, especially when it came to working on family.

You took one last breath before you pushed into the factory. The typical hustle and bustle of dress making was gone and replaced by dead silence. Your boots clicked on the concrete floor as you made your way to the back of the warehouse. You could only imagine the scene that was going on behind the heavy metal door that separated the regular dressmaking world and the cartel world.

You didn’t linger for too long, your eyes scanned the door and you sighed as you pushed it open and made your way into the room.

The first thing you noticed was the vibe in the air, it was tense, so tense that you felt your own muscles starting to tighten up. The next thing you registered was the groans of pain that were coming from around the corner. You sped up, knowing full well those noises were coming from Marcus. As you rounded the corner, Marcus came into your view and you had to stop the gasp from escaping your lips as you took in his beaten appearance.

A movement from your left caught your eye and you turned your head to come face to face with a man that you formed an unlikely alliance with and saw as a friend. His typical suit was gone, and he was in regular dark washed jeans, black boots, a simple back shirt and a leather bomber jacket. His usually perfect hair was messed up a tad and he had a black bandiana in his hands, you followed his movements and realized he was wiping blood off of them.

“I tried to get them to take him to the doctor across the border, but everyone insisted that you would want to be the one to help Marcus.” Miguel said softly. You could hear the MC shuffling around as you shared this tiny moment with Miguel.

“I would have been insulted had I not been the one to help.” You said with a small smile.

Miguel nodded slowly and his eyes flicked over to where Marcus was sitting. His expression changed to a more pained one before he schooled it back to his neutral resting face. Your gaze followed Miguel’s and you looked at Marcus, he had numerous wounds that made your insides twist with anger.

You cleared your throat and made your way over to him. Miguel followed you and as you neared Marcus, Bishop walked over and pulled you into a firm hug.

“Thanks for coming sweetheart.” His voice rumbled into your ear.

“You couldn't have stopped me from coming to help you even if you tried.” You replied.

Bish nodded and you slowly bent down to look at Marcus’s injuries more closely. Your hands shook slightly as you mentally cataloged all his flesh wounds. You examined his hands, cringing when you noticed some nails had been ripped off. His left eye was black and blue, swollen shut and he had a nasty cut on his neck.

You sighed and quickly got to work. Off in the corner to your right, you could feel Angel staring holes into your skull. You cleared your throat again and clenched your jaw as you cleaned out the deeper wounds. Angel hated being ignored, it was a trigger of his, but you couldn’t risk looking over at him and falling into those deep brown eyes.

“Thank you mija,” Marcus whispered.

You looked up at your tio and gave him a half smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I just hope you killed the men that did this to you.” You knew they did, there was no way they would leave them alive.

Marcus chuckled, but it ended up turning into a wheezing cough.

“Miguel made sure of that.” He replied after his coughing fit had subsided.

You glanced over your shoulder and gave Miguel a small smile which he returned.

From the corner, Angel watched the exchange and clenched down on his jaw, physically stopping himself from asking a question that would fuck up the already strained relationship between the MC and The Galindo Cartel. Angel couldn't help the ugly jealousy that stirred in his chest as Miguel hovered over you while your nimble fingers tended to Marcus' wounds. If Angel could put a description on it, he would say Galindo looked like a Pitbull right now, floating around you in a protective manner that made Angel's stomach churn with anxious nausea.

"You good?" Ez whispered from beside Angel.

All he could do was nod, he knew if he spoke then Ez would hear the stress and anger in his voice and he would pounce on it like the little "fixer" he was.

Miguel crouched down next to you, his shoulder bumping yours, and the small contact caused Angel to ball his fists up and turn to look at the worn down wall. He couldn't look at the two of you, not right now, not when he felt a million different complex emotions flying at him from numerous different ways.

"Chill mano." Coco said softly from Angel's other side.

Angel rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he tried- but failed to block out your voice.

"He should be good after I stitch up this last wound here, he needs to rest Miguel." You stated in a professional yet sentimental tone.

You could feel Miguel's shoulder pressed against yours and your nerves kicked up just a tad. Miguel Galindo was a powerful, intense man with perfect bone structure and impeccable fashion taste. Underneath all of that- was a brutal, animalistic cartel leader who killed numerous people in the past.

Ever since Day 1, when Miguel walked into your hospital carrying his trampled wife, you managed to look past his cartel dealings. You always saw him- the man who was family oriented, loyal, fiercely protective and charming. All of your assumptions about him had became more permanent this year, after you spent almost every day tending to Dita's third degree burns.

Shit- Miguel practically hired you as his mothers personal doctor. Still to this day you saw her once a week, every week, to check in on her healing.

"There,” you gave him a small smile. “All better." You whispered as you finished off the last stitch and sat back on your heels. Marcus grimaced slightly, but he already looked so much better.

The elephant size weight on your chest lifted, and you found it easier to breathe now that he was okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Miguel rise to his feet. As you packed up your medical supplies, the cartel leader helped Marcus to his feet. You glanced up at him, making sure he had good balance and could stand.

You smiled at him when he could and you happily shut your kit.

As you went to stand, Miguel stretched out his hand for you to take. You didn't hesitate in grabbing it, and his long warm fingers wrapped around your hand and he pulled you up softly.

"Thanks." You stated as you let go of his hand and brushed off your pants.

"No, thank you. Truly, Marcus wouldn't have survived without you." Miguel responded.

"Please," you began

"Its true Mija. Thank you. I owe you so much." Marcus said cutting you off.

You gave him a half smile and moved to give him a soft hug, which he returned.

"Bed rest." You stated firmly as you pulled back.

"Yes ma'am." Miguel joked. Your eyes flicked up to his face and you took the time to appreciate his rare smile.

"Off you go then," you mumbled, bending down to pick up your kit.

Miguel nodded once more and then with the help of Nestor, he helped Marcus out of the room.

"Thanks for the call Tio." You said as the president came up to you.

"Nah, no worries. Just glad we got you to patch us up when we get hurt."

"Yeah, if you guys could stop doing that, that would be amazing." You said scrunching your face up as you followed your Tio outside.

The rest of the MC trudged behind, and you were silently thankful that Angel was all the way in the back.

Once outside, your eyes watched as Nestor got inside the SUV and drove away. You followed their vehicles for a split second before you turned your attention back to Bishop.

"Are there any other injuries I should know about?" You questioned with an arched eyebrow.

Bishop laughed and shook his head before he pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thanks sweetheart, go home, get some sleep." He said softly as you pulled out of his embrace. You gave him a smile and started to walk back over to your car. You pulled out your keys and fiddled with them for a second, trying your best to avoid looking over your shoulder at the MC.

You sighed as you unlocked your trunk and threw your medical kit. Your fingers gripped onto the cool metal of your trunk and you took a moment to steady yourself before you slammed it shut with more force than needed.

As you looked up from your car your eyes connected with Angel's. Even from across the lot, you could tell he was upset. His face was impassive and disconnected from everything around him. His eyes looked dead, and while part of you wanted to go over to him and hug him, the stronger, more irritated part of you wanted nothing to do with Angel.

He had hurt you-- and it had taken everything in you to leave him, but you managed to do it.

You swallowed thickly and ripped your eyes away from Angel. You could feel your throat closing off and you quickly jumped into the car. You glanced down at your body for a moment before you inhaled deeply and started the car.

You chanced one last look at Angel before you put the car in reverse and backed up. He was shaking his head and listening to something Ez was saying while twisting his rings absentmindedly.

You sighed again and peeled away towards your home. It never got easier when it came to seeing Angel, and the fact that a stray tear had fallen from your eyes and landed on your cheeks only solidified that fact for you.

The drive back to your house was quick, and you barely remembered it due to being so deep in thought.

You groaned as you pushed yourself out of your car, your lower back was killing you, and your feet felt like you had been walking on hot stones all day. All you wanted to do was to climb back in bed and sleep through your entire three day weekend.

As you opened your front door, your phone began to ring again and your body deflated at the thought of another Mayan needing your help.

You pulled out your phone and a wave of surprise washed over you when you saw it was Miguel.

You quickly answered it and tried your best to keep the exhaustion out of your voice.

"Hey."

"You sound tired." Miguel stated.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your stuff off on the kitchen island before you kicked off your shoes and padded down the hallway to your room.

"Yeah, busy week." You replied.

You heard Miguel hum on the other end of the line and the break in the conversation made you nervous.

"What's up?" You questioned, running out of patience.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner, as a thank you for saving Marcus's life."

A you could respond with was a lame "Oh," you froze in the doorway to your bedroom and searched for the right words to say.

"Tomorrow. 7 o'clock, at The Rosa. I can have a car pick you up." Miguel responded smoothly as ever.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. Over the months you and Miguel had steadily become good friends, you enjoyed spending time with the man and loved his entire family. Every time you visited his house you ended up staying for hours, either talking with Dita, joking with Emily or playing with Cristobal.

"Um sure… yeah, that sounds great Miguel." You finally answered

"Perfect! See you then, oh and Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep por favor."

You smiled to yourself and nodded.

"You got it boss."

Miguel chuckled and the pair of you wished each other a goodnight before you clicked off the phone and tossed it onto your inviting bed.

It took you no time at all to strip out of your clothes and tuck yourself into your sheets. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed and you drifted off into dreamland.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You woke to the sounds of birds chirping outside as the sunlight peeked through your shades and welcomed the morning to you.

You stretched and let your hand run absentmindedly up and down your stomach while the other hand rubbed the morning crust out of your eyes.

You loved waking up naturally, without an alarm barking at you or your phone blaring arrogantly. You sighed and let both of your arms fall onto the mattress with a soft thump.

Mornings like these were always so still and quiet. You reveled in it, if was one of the few times where your mind was just as silent as the world around you.

You let your arm feel around for your phone and when you found it, you looked at the time and sighed.

11:00 am

Despite wanting to stay in bed, you did have a lot to do today. You had to go to the grocery store, wash your clothes along with your dishes and then you had to go visit your mother's grave and wish her a happy birthday. On top of all of that, you had to get back here and get ready for dinner by 7 PM.

You groaned and checked your messages, a small smile formed on your lips as you read one from Coco.

Coco: Can you talk to Letty? She is out here running around with this boy who is shit. She won't listen to me. Maybe she will listen to you.

You chuckled and imagined the conversation that Letty and Coco had about her new boyfriend. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been successful otherwise he wouldn't have texted you.

You: Yeah I can come over to the clubhouse later around like 8 or 9? Talk to her?

You went to turn off your phone, not expecting Coco to respond right away, but the ding caused your attention to shift back to your phone.

Coco: Yeah, yeah that will work. We are having a party here tonight anyway..sure she is gunna show up with Gabi."

You smiled again and clicked off your phone before you threw the blankets off of your body with a sigh.

"Let's start this day." you muttered to yourself.

It took you no time at all to throw on some comfy athletic clothes.

First thing to do was head to the graveyard to visit your mother.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sat down on your couch and let out a yawn. You opened your water bottle and drank like a dehydrated animal. The cool water rushed into your throat and you loved the way the refreshing feeling seeped through your whole body.

You stroked your stomach again and sighed.

You had to start getting ready, dinner was in an hour and you looked like you just finished running a marathon.

The timer on your dryer pinged signaling the completion of your final load of clothes. You thought about getting them out and folding them, but you didn't have the time, nor did you feel like it.

You finished off your water and pushed yourself off the couch and to your room. You already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and you went straight to your closet to pull it out.

It was a simple dark green dress that had a V neck, and thin straps. It came to your knees and had a small slit in it that revealed your thigh. You decided to pair it with some black heels that wrapped around your ankle and your black clutch that matched.

You moved to your bathroom to do your hair, settling on straightening it. You kept your make up simple yet effective. Dewy foundation, brown eyeshadow, filled in brows with a nude lipstick.

You finished off your hair and make up and took a step back to double check it in your mirror. You flattened some stray hair pieces and smiled at your reflection. You couldn't deny you looked good.

It didn't take you long to put on your dress and heels, and you quickly finished off your look with some gold hoops and a gold minimalist necklace.

You checked yourself out in your full body mirror and you grimaced slightly at the extra weight you were carrying in your midsection, but you couldn't dwell on it, you knew you still looked hot.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock and your timing was perfect as you had 10 minutes until dinner. You walked over to your phone and sat on your bed as you opened your messages.

Miguel- Nestor should be there in 5 minutes.

He had sent that about 3 minutes ago so you figured Nestor would show up any moment now. You smiled at your phone slightly before you pushed yourself off your bed and unplugged your phone.

You checked yourself out one last time before you headed out to the living room to wait. You didn't have to wait long because as soon as you made it to the kitchen, your doorbell rang.

"Prompt." you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You opened the door and came face to face with Miguel's best friend and bodyguard.

"Evening Y/N." Nestor greeted. You didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your form before they snapped back up to your face.

"See something of interest Nestor?" You joked before you walked out and shut your door. You turned to lock it and Nestor cleared his throat.

"Sorry." he apologized.

You waved him off and gave him a small smile. You weren't bothered by him checking you out, it was a silent compliment, plus, it gave you a small boost of confidence and that never hurt anyone.

"The drive should only be about 10 minutes." Nestor said as he pulled the SUV out of your driveway.

"I know, I have lived here my whole life." You joked, wanting to lighten the air between you two. Nestor was always so stiff and you felt the need to help him ease up. You weren’t his boss, you weren’t reporting anything to Miguel, you just wanted him to chill out.

Nestor chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just not used to Mikey having friends. Don't really know how to talk to you." Nestor stated as he looked at you in the rearview mirror.

You shrugged and moved a stray piece of hair out of your face. "Talk to me normally, I’m a normal person you know.”

Nestor huffed, but didn't say anything else. You weren’t normal, not to him. Miguel Galindo was fond of you and you were Mayans royalty. The rest of the drive was completed in a comfortable silence. You had expected to be nervous, going out to dinner with the most powerful man in Santo Padre, but you found yourself calm, collected and excited to see your friend in a more relaxed setting.

Truthfully, you liked him better like that anyway.

"Here we are." Nestor announced as he pulled up to the front of the restaurant. There was a line outside, but you knew Miguel was probably already inside, waiting for you.

Nestor came around to open your door and you smiled as he helped you out.

"Thanks Nestor."

"No problem. Mikey is inside."

You nodded and smoothed out your dress before you walked over to the restaurant, past the line of hungry people and into the door. Your eyes scanned the dining room, but you couldn't seem to find Miguel. You pursed your lips and glanced over at the hostess, she was on the phone but you decided to walk over to her anyway.

"Yes, yes, thank you. Hi! Welcome to the Rosa, how may I help you?" The hostess said as she hung up the phone.

"Hi- um I'm here for Miguel Galindo." You stated.

The lady looked up at you and arched an eyebrow before she schooled her shocked expression back a neutral one.

"Right this way ma'am." She said before she walked off towards a private area. You rolled your eyes and followed her- you should have known Miguel would be in a VIP area.

"Here you are, enjoy."

At the sound of the hostess, Miguel glanced up and locked eyes with you. He smiled and stood up as you walked over to him.

"Hi, you look beautiful. Thank you for meeting me." Miguel said as he came around the table to pull out your chair.

"Such a gentleman and no problem. I'm always down to eat.” You placed your phone face up on the table. “Oh, how rude of me, you don’t look too bad yourself Miguel.”

You weren't lying, the man had impeccable taste in clothing. Currently he was in a light grey suit, with a black tie and matching shoes. His hair was perfectly gelled back, and his beard was groomed to perfection.

Typical.

Miguel laughed and pushed your chair in slightly after you sat. He rounded the table and sat back down, scooting his chair in once before he leaned back and evaluated you.

"How are you?" He asked.

You shrugged and opened the menu that was in front of you. "Good, tired but ya know, what's new."

"Did you not sleep last night?" Miguel questioned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

You glanced up from your menu and held his gaze for a moment before you looked back down at the food selections.

"I did, but I'm a surgeon, I'm always going to be tired." You stated. Your body was always playing catch up with all the sleep you lost over the years, both through surgery and Angel.

Miguel hummed and opened his mouth to say something but the incoming waiter interrupted him.

"Good evening, my name is Ezra, I'll be taking care of you tonight. Mr. Galindo can I start you off with any drinks?"

You rolled your eyes, of course Miguel didn't have to introduce himself.

"Yes, I'll have a bottle of whatever wine is featured tonight, and two glasses."

Your eyes flicked up to Miguel's face and your eyes widened for a fraction of a second. A weight settled on your chest and suddenly it felt a little hotter in here.

"Uh actually Miguel, I'll have water,” you corrected.

Miguel looked at you but didn't say anything, the waiter nodded and he took off to get your drinks.

As soon as he was out of ear range, Miguel turned his full attention to you. You squirmed slightly under his questioning gaze and you let out a sigh before you closed your menu.

"I can't drink okay?" You whispered.

You watched as understanding washed over his face, his eyes flicked to your stomach and then back up to your face.

"I didn't realize you were seeing someone." Miguel said softly. You were surprised at how soft and nonjudgmental his tone was. You had expected him to be harsh, or even condescending, but once again you were taken aback by Senor Galindo.

"I'm uh, I’m not." You corrected him. “I was seeing someone.”

“A shame, what an idiotic man for letting go of such a lovely woman.” Miguel leaned back, pursing his lips. “Does he know?”

“He doesn’t, I’ll tell him eventually, things are just…….rocky.” You didn’t want to divulge further. You didn’t want Miguel to find out you were pregnant with Angel’s baby. It wasn’t the judgement you feared, you knew Miguel saw the MC as beneath him, but saying it out loud meant it was real. That you were pregnant. You meant to tell Angel when you found out, but after you broke up four months ago, it never seemed like the opportunity was right.

You recalled that night then, the fight that broke you and Angel apart. It was a stupid fight, now that you think about it, you got on Angel’s case due to some laundry on the floor. For some reason, that escalated into a huge fight between you two and you broke up with Angel. You weren’t proud of how you ended things, but that whole week had been surgery after surgery, sleep was basically non-existent. Instead of talking it out with Angel, you took it out on him. Despite that your relationship had not exactly been perfect leading up to that week. Angel was always on a run with Adelita, you weren’t exactly a fan of their budding relationship, especially knowing the truth between them before Adelita joined forces with the cartel.

Jealousy, lack of sleep and hormones due to your unknown pregnancy then, it took a toll and you broke up with Angel. Instead of fighting for you, he walked out, he was tired of the endless fights between you two. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you two broke-up since Angel slept with anything that fucking walked. Your Tio Bishop didn’t exactly miss the break-up between you two but he chose to stay out of it. Your break-up had nothing to do with club business, if anything Angel kept his head in club business to keep himself from going crazy after losing you.

Six years down the drain, over some petty miscommunication. Neither one of you wanted to break the deadlock, you were both stubborn as mules, and unsure of how to fix things. You felt bad, you wanted to fix the mess between you and Angel, or at the least, tell him about his unborn child, but every time you had the courage to do so, the sinking dread came along with it.

You’ve been part of the MC since birth. Your mother was no longer alive and your only living parent was spending the rest of his life in jail. You didn’t want to blame the MC of you feeling orphaned since Bishop and Marcus definitely stepped up, but it could never replace a mother or a father’s love. Due to that, you were reluctant to tell Angel about the baby. Being with Angel frightened you because you were afraid you would either be six feet under just like your mother or you would be doing weekly jail visits just to see him. An even worse thought you had frequently was that Angel could be the one who was six feet under. With his impulsive behavior and quick temper, you always feared for Angel's life.

At the same time, this has been your life, the family that has held you down. It was all you knew.

Why did life have to be so fucking complicated?

“Y/N, I lost you,” Miguel shook you softly.

“Sorry,” you gave him a small smile. “It’s just complicated.”

“Is he a co-worker?” Miguel didn’t want to pry, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t curious.

“No, he isn’t, he’s a family friend.” That was mildly accurate. Your family knew Angel.

“Ah, so he’s in the MC.” Miguel wasn’t an idiot, he also wasn’t oblivious, he noticed how the eldest Reyes basically burned holes through him with the way he stared. He wasn’t a fan of the Reyes men, having to deal with the youngest due to Emily and their father who had a weird relationship with his mother. If anything, Angel was the less obnoxious of the three.

“What? What makes you say he’s in the MC?”

“Because I’m not blind, I saw how Angel glared at me.” Miguel chuckled. He noticed how worked up the eldest of the two Reyes’ were. He was a little shit and pushed him further, but he knew he wouldn’t do anything.

Ezra placed your drinks in front of you. You two placed your orders, Ezra quickly brought it down to the kitchen, not wanting to keep Miguel waiting.

You sighed. “Angel isn’t subtle.”

“No he is not, but I cannot say I blame him. You’re a beautiful girl, any man who is near you that is not family would also upset me.” Miguel took a sip of the wine. “This wine is divine, you would have enjoyed this.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in, prick.”

Miguel laughed. “So why have you not told him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“Just haven’t had time.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes at Miguel, begrudgingly drinking the water, wishing it was wine instead. “We didn’t have the greatest break-up and I’m not really sure how to tell him.”

“Angel, I’m with child,” Miguel shrugged. “Seems simple to me.”

“Nothing is ever simple with Angel.”

“You’re scared to commit to Angel.”

“I’m sorry, did you become a licensed therapist in the span of the one day that I didn’t see you?”

Miguel laughed. “I did not, but you’re easy to read. You try to keep away from the MC lifestyle, but you ended up falling for a man that basically breathes the MC lifestyle. You don’t want to end up like your mother, a drunkard that couldn’t handle the fact that your father was put away for life.” It made you slightly uncomfortable how well Miguel read you, how well he knew you, but you figured it was due to your Tio Marcus. “History doesn’t have to repeat itself. You don’t strike me as a drunkard and Angel, as ill tempered as he is, seemed to be calmer around you.”

“Again, how do you know all of this?”

“Your Tio Marcus worries about you. He favored Angel for you, but it seemed your experience with your parents proved to be too much for you and Angel.” Miguel explained. “Can I offer a word of advice?”

“Sure,” you might as well listen, it’s not like Miguel Galindo was the local therapist.

“Do not fear the past, learn from it. You’re not doomed to repeat it if you learn from it.”

You looked at Miguel, your eyes welling up. He frowned, unsure of what he did that upset you.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately fired out, not wanting to upset you.

“No, you’re fine,” you slightly laughed, wiping the tears that had escaped. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Good, it does not happen often.”

“Well, I’m very touched to be fortunate to earn your wise words.”

Dinner went smoothly, which was no surprise to you. Your conversations with Miguel always flowed well and you never had trouble being comfortable with Miguel. You kept a boundary between you two since you knew the relationship between the cartel and the MC was rocky at best. But you enjoyed Miguel’s company, a much needed distraction. He escorted you out of the restaurant, recalling a funny memory of he and Emily when they were still dating.

Unbeknownst to you, Angel was coming out of a restaurant with Coco and Gilly a few buildings down. He looked up and saw you, his heart stopping, clenching at the sight of you with the cartel leader. Miguel was smiling at you, placing a hand on your stomach. All these thoughts ran in his mind, the most prominent one was that you were sleeping with Miguel.

Why else would Miguel be as protective as he was towards you?

Anger coursed through his veins, he couldn’t believe you would sleep with Miguel Galindo. Cheating was a deal breaker for you, it was the reason you two fought as much as you did. You had accused him of cheating on you with Adelita even though that was far from the truth. While he understood your worries, it wasn’t anything like that.

But watching Miguel handle you with such care, tucking your hair behind your ear, Angel almost charged towards you two, but Gilly and Coco held him back.

“Don’t, he would have you sitting on that pew, yellow raincoat and all.” Gilly warned.

Angel struggled against them, but they watched as Miguel opened the door of the SUV for you, waving goodbye before closing the door. He entered his own vehicle that was behind yours and left as well.

“The fuck was that?” Coco questioned, in disbelief that you were with Miguel in an outside setting.

“I don’t know, but I’m gonna fucking find out.” Angel got on his bike, speeding after the SUV that drove off with you.

Angel kept his distance, making sure that whoever was driving the SUV didn’t notice him. He eventually decided to pull over a few blocks away from your place, giving it ten minutes before he would come to your house and ask what was going on.

It’s been fucking hell these past few months. Sure, he fucked the pain away, but it never lessened what he felt. He wanted to speak to you, to make amends, but he couldn’t swallow it. You broke up with him, for something so miniscule. He knew you two had been fighting, he just didn’t think you would leave him. And now, instead of immediately fixing things between you two, Angel restored to self-destructive behavior to ease the pain. Seeing how you were with Miguel the other night, it irked him. He wasn’t sure how he was able to keep his anger at bay then, but it came back up now.

Were you pregnant with Miguel Galindo’s bastard child?

No, that was not possible.

You wouldn’t sleep with a married man.

More importantly, you wouldn’t sleep with Miguel Galindo.

The longer Angel waited, the more he his thoughts grew darker and darker. His anger was building to a dangerous level and some small conscious part of him knew that he he barged into your house like this, that nothing would get solved. You would probably end up yelling at him, and he would end up yelling at you, a lamp might be broken due to it being thrown across the room.

Words would be said that could never be taken back.

Angel gritted his teeth, as much as he wanted to break your front door down and demand answers. He knew he couldn't. But he was spiraling down a deep hole and he needed something, anything, in order to keep his dark thoughts at bay.

Thankfully- there was a party tonight, and a party meant women, and women meant he could fuck his emotions away.

Angel stared at your house for a moment longer before he kicked his bike on and tore out of your neighborhood.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sighed as your eyes roamed over the MC clubhouse. It was definitely bumping, the party alive and well. Numerous people were outside hanging around a fire, and you knew there were more people inside. It had not taken you very long to change and head back out once Nestor had dropped you off.

Originally, you had came.to talk to Letty, discuss her new boyfriend, but after your conversation with Miguel, you had also decided you would tell Angel you were pregnant. You needed him to know he was going to be a father, you needed him to understand that because of that, he was going to have to shape up.

This baby was going to need both parents, it was going to need to be loved by both parents, taken care of by both parents. Angel couldnt do that when he was fucking around with the club and random women.

You sighed and got out of the car.

You couldnt believe you were here to fix things with Angel based off the advice from Miguel fucking Galindo.

Your boots crunched on the gravel as you made you way to the door. The closer you got, the louder the music sounded. For a brief moment you wondered if you could even do this- but you pushed that thought out of your head and walked your way into the clubhouse.

Your eyes scanned the room for Letty, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Coco spotted you and waved you over to where most of.the MC was sitting.

You pushed your way through the bodies of people and let out a breath once you made it to the guys. They all smiled and stood up to gi e you a hug.

"I couldn't get Letty here.” Coco sighed. “We’ve been fighting more lately so I'm not surprised she didn't fucking show." Coco pulled away.

"Don't worry about it, she's a teenager, you two are bound to fight. Just don't let it linger into something an "I'm sorry" cant fix." You statedz

Coco nodded and took a step back allowing all the guys to give you a hug. The last one to hug you was your Tio Bishop. His hug was warm and welcoming per usual, and you felt yourself lingering in his comfort for a few moments longer.

"Everything okay?" Bishop asked as you pulled away

You swallowed and nodded. Bishop was another person you had wanted to tell, but never found the right time to. You didn't know if he would be happy or angry at you for getting knocked up with Angel's kid, but eventually you knew you were going to have to tell him.

"Uh yeah, actually, have you seen Angel?" You questioned looking around.

Bishop arched an eyebrow at you and evaluated your face before he cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nah, maybe Ezekiel knows." he said pointing over to the bar.

You followed his point and saw that Ez was standing at the bar with his girlfriend Gabi. You turned back to your Tio and thanked him with a smile before you B-lined it to the bar.

"Yo E-" You called out once you got closer to the pair.

Ez and Gabi turned around and when they realized it was you who called Ez, they smiled. You rushed to give Gabi a hug first and then repeated the process with Ez.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Ez asked over the music.

"Funny story- I was supposed to talk to Letty about her boyfriend, but she didn't show, so I'm looking for Angel now. I gotta tell him something." You answered.

"Her boyfriend is disgusting." Gabi chimed in.

You laughed as Ez looked over your head, searching for his brother.

"Honestly Y/N, last time I saw him he was heading outside. Said he needed to use my trailer for a phone call. Figured he was calling you." Ez said.

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Angel using Ezekiel's trailer, your mind floated to all the bad things that he could be doing in there but you stopped yourself.

"Don't fear the past, learn from it."

Miguel's words echoed in your head and you silently chanted them in your head repeatedly.

"Is it cool of I go check?" You asked.

"Did you need me to go?" He questioned.

"Nah- I'm good. Stay here, we shouldn't be long." You lied.

Ez nodded and you turned on your heel to head out to the trailer. You were determined to tell Angel that you were pregnant. You were determined to fix things between the pair of you and you knew that the conversation wouldn't be easy, but it needed to happen.

As you neared the trailer you heart rate kicked up. Your palms started to get clammy and you felt nauseous. You rubbed your belly gently as you looked down at the tiny bulge that was beginning to form.

"We got this little one," you whispered to yourself.

You inhaled and let out a slow controlled breath before you knocked on the door. There was no verbal response, but you could hear the shuffling sounds just behind the door so you figured Angel was in there and ignoring you.

You rolled your eyes and quickly yanked open the door before you could change your mind. You took two steps inside before you heard his voice.

"Yo Ez what the fuck, I'm busy.”

You stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes zeroed in on Angel. From this angle, all you could see was his naked, freshly tattooed back. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you realized there was a woman underneath him. You could hear his familiar grunts of pleasure echoing throughout the trailer and you could smell the unique scent of Angel in the air. Cologne, cigarettes and leather- it all mixed together with the scent of sex and it practically made you gag.

Time seemed to slow down and your blood turned to ice in your veins as you fully absorbed what was happening in front if you.

"Seriously bro get ou-"

Angel looked over his shoulder and his eyes connected with yours, his sentence died and his mouth fell open as he took you in.

The longer you stared at him, the longer your exterior hardened. You felt yourself physically closing off and pulling away from Angel. Everything that you had planned to tell him flew out the window and all you could do was stare at him.

"Shit." Angel said as he pushed himself up off the woman and wrapped a blanket around his waist. The woman let out a groan and pulled another blanket on top of her.

As Angel neared you, you took a step back down the stairs. You didn't want to be near him, shit you should have known this was a fucking mistake.

"Y/N, what, what are you doing here?" He stuttered out, upset at the predicament you caught him in.

The wheels in your head were stuck. You could barely process Angel's words and you didn't even realize you were responding until you heard your own strained sounding voice.

"Nothing, this was a bad idea. I'll let you get back to um. Yeah."

You turned away and practically ran down the stairs and to your car. Everything you had been worried about came to the surface, Angel wasn't mature enough for this kid. He was always going to run away and self destruct every time you and him got into an argument. What if you needed time away from him? Was he going to run off and fuck everything that walked??

Hell probably.

How the fuck were you supposed to tell him he was going to be a father soon when he couldn't even take care of himself?

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t risk your child growing up in a household that was bitter and cold due to parental arguments. You couldn’t risk that trauma and pain being absorbed by your child and causing them to have problems with relationships later down the road.

The more your thoughts spiraled, the closer you got to your car. You could barely make out the heavy footsteps that were following you, you sped up, not wanting to give Angel an opportunity to throw some bullshit excuse at you.

“Y/N!” Angel called out.

You ignored him.

You unlocked your car with your key remote and your fingers found the door handle but just as you were about to pull it open, Angel’s large hand slammed against it and kept it shut. You didn’t dare look up at him, your chest was rising and falling rapidly and your heart rate was increasing to a dangerous level. You knew this kind of stress was not good for you and your baby.

Your baby. Just saying that made your insides churn and caused a new wave of nausea to wash over you.

“Y/N, please give me a chance to explain.” Angel pleaded.

You still refused to look up at him. You kept your eyes trained on your window, and in the reflection of the night you could see he was still naked except for the blanket that was wrapped around his waist.

“Explain what Angel? How could you possibly explain why I just found you fucking some girl in your brothers trailer?” You snapped.

Your voice was sharp and icy and you saw Angel subtly flinch away from your tone. You couldn't find it in you to care though, you wanted him to hurt the way you hurt.

“Y/N..please.” He begged

You finally looked up at him through narrowed eyes. His brown orbs were back to normal and they were mixed with numerous different emotions. You could pick out a few- pain, anger, sadness, but it wasn’t your place to help him through those emotions- not anymore.

“Get out of my way Angel.” You ordered

“No- no, wait just let me.”

“Angel move!” You yelled, cutting his begging off.

Angel stared at you for a moment before he lifted his hands up in an act of surrender. He took a couple steps back and you ripped your door open so forcefully that you could have sworn the hinges creaked.

You threw yourself into the car and slammed your door shut. It took you no time at all to start your car and back out of the gravel lot. You watched Angel out of the corner of your eye and he ran his hands through his hair. He rested his hands on his knees and inhaled deeply before he stood all the way up and gazed at your car.

"Fuck you…" you whispered before you backed all the way out and peeled off.

Your anger was coursing through you at such a blinding speed that you didn't even register that a tall, lanky man with long, wispy brown hair was watching you from his hidden spot across the street.

He hummed to himself before he opened his phone to dial his office.

"Oh the trials and tribulations of love." He muttered to himself.

#mayans mc #mayans fanfic #mayans fandom #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #miguel galindo #angel reyes #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #mayans #whatupitsastarrynite

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deannaroxannewrites · 3 years

Text

Tropetember Day 12 - Getting together / Love confession / First kiss / Break-up/Make-up / Fix-it

Limp away with me

Pairing: Armitage Hux x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Injuries, implications of rough childhood

AN: Day 12 of @tropetember. So, this is quite rough and holds a lot of potential for fleshing out into a proper story, whether that's just a longer one or a multi-chapter. Is that something anyone would be interested in? Fix-it fic cos they did General Hugs dirty

Allegiant General Pryde has shot General Hux. Lucky you're the Surgeon General really.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.6k

“Allegiant General Pryde just shot General Hux.”

Your breath catches and you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes. Next moment, you’ve grabbed your bag and are focused back on task.

“Collect the body,” you direct them, “and bring it to the medbay autopsy lab. Carefully.”

You and Armitage had prepared for this eventuality. One of the advantages of having a partner in the medical core was that the chances of surviving treason were much higher.

Whilst neither of you had entered First Order service willingly (no matter what Hux said, you had both been forced into it), Armitage had quickly excelled and embraced his duties in an effort to outshine his father. To try and prove himself as worthy. You, on the other hand, had enacted the only act of rebellion against your family that you would be able to survive. You had chosen to enrol in the medical core rather than aiming for command. If you had to be a part of this monstrous cause, you would try to save as many as you could.

You’d worked your way quickly up to the rank of Surgeon General and had been stationed on the Supremacy for a number of years. Thankfully, you’d survived the reign of Snoke and, so far, had survived Ren’s reign of terror. It had been a blessing that Hux had been reassigned to the vessel from the Finaliser. You enjoyed each other’s company and it was helpful to be able to train on your self-defence with someone who wasn’t trying to beat the stuffing out of you to make a point. He was a good outlet for a lot of energy in other ways too.

You glance up from checking you have all your equipment when you realise the orderlies haven’t moved. You turn your most piercing stare on them.

“Did I stutter?”

They look at each other until one of them pulls up their big boy panties and says “he was shot for being a spy.”

You laugh. Mostly at the fact that one looks like he wants to cry and the other like he’s about to collapse. They don’t need to know that though.

“Yes, by Allegient General Pryde who is well known for being a thorough and competent leader. Oh wait. No, he’s not. He’s had a grudge against Hux since he reappeared from whatever hell hole he had been hiding in. I said go fetch me the body! Now!”

They scarper out and you take another deep breath to centre yourself before busying yourself again with grabbing supplies and the emergency make-a-break-for-it kit you stored in your office. You then straighten your uniform, brace yourself and head out into the chaos of the medical bay.

---------------

Armitage is deathly pale when he finally is brought down to you but you swiftly move into action, infusing blood and bacta and checking the depth of the wound. You’d both known that, were he to be discovered, the weapon he was likely to be shot with would pierce the thin body armour he wore beneath his uniform. Unfortunately, it was the maximum thickness he could get away with before it became noticeable but you had both agreed that some bleeding would sell the ruse. You just didn’t like it.

Checking out the wound, you sigh out a quick breath of relief when you realise it is not too deep and hasn’t damaged any of the major blood vessels or organs. Though gruesome to witness, it was mostly superficial.

You lose yourself in your efforts, remaining undisturbed in the autopsy room, until you’re happy that he’s stable for travel. It’s at that point that you revive him, despite the fact he’s going to be in a world of pain.

He slowly blinks into reality with a scowl and a hiss of pain. You try to soothe him as best you can but there isn’t much you can do right now. You need him mobile to get to the shuttle and someone would notice you carrying him.

Gently running your hand through his hair you tell him “come on sweetheart. I know it hurts but we’ve got to move.”

Despite the pain, he seems alert and nods, letting out a grunt of agreement as he allows you to help him sit up and then stand. You gather the spare stormtrooper armour you’d pilfered a few months ago and quickly get him dressed up in it before leading the way swiftly to the small landing bay where Armitage’s private shuttle was stored.

You whisper a thanks to whatever Gods there are that the chaos on board the vessel means that there is noone around and you manage to get the pair of you on board with little drama. In fact, the whole escape into hyperspace is amazingly smooth and once you’re away with your course set, you sag a little in relief.

Or at least, you do until you see Armitage’s slumped frame and quickly grab him and get him moved to the small bedroom to continue his care and knock him back out while he heals.

You’re just about to inject the sedative when he grabs your hand, making you look at him.

“You know you are my world, don’t you?” he asks quietly.

You smile softly and lean forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips. You smile again as you feel him smile against you.

“I do, I wouldn’t have committed treason for anything less.”

He rolls his eyes before pressing another gentle peck to your lips and releasing you to get back your work. You take the opportunity to knock him out for now. It’s how he’ll be most comfortable.

And if you’re grinning so hard your face hurts, noone in deep space can see it. They can’t see you internally debating whether it’s ethical to dope someone up to get soppy confessions from them in the future either.

---------

It wasn’t often that General Dameron of the Resistance found himself in the Outer Rim.

Even 3 years after the end of the war, he was still mostly stuck to the core planets and mid-rim in efforts to support the Senate and help guard the peace which had settled upon the galaxy.

He’d been on a training mission with a few new recruits for Green Squadron when they’d been ambushed and they’d all received some pretty injuries despite eventually winning the battle. Injuries that required attention sooner than they would be able to if they headed back to base.

After a quick argument with Finn via the comms, the squad set course for a local med facility that was gaining a reputation for it’s high quality care.

Poe made sure all his squad were checked out before himself and he was happy that they were all being looked after so well. It was strange. The lead Doctor seemed familiar.

It wasn’t until you met his eyes that he realised.

You calmly continued his consultation, gently palpitating the wounds and collecting dressings, something you appeared to be doing more quickly than he was able to collect his thoughts.

“You!”

You snort. You can’t help it.

“Yes, me General Dameron.” You gently dab some bacta on some of the smaller cuts. “Did that break heal up correctly?”

He nods a bit dumbly. You’d been responsible for his care after Ren and a couple of the Stormtroopers had tortured him. You’d been a welcome relief, if he were honest. In fact, apart from the fact you’d worked for the First Order, he wasn’t aware of any accusations against you.

“I’m glad.” You finish wrapping his wrist and nod. “All done. Your pilots should be ready to go in around 2hrs, just to allow any drowsiness to wear off. I have some spare rooms if you need to stay on planet tonight?”

He thanks you profusely but explains that they are expected back tonight as you head back into the main waiting area. You shake his hand before leaving him and approaching a tall red-head across the room who instantly wraps his arm around your waist and drops a quick kiss on your head. You whisper to him for a few seconds and blue-green eyes suddenly lock with Poe’s before his face breaks out in a smile.

“General Dameron” Armitage says, approaching slowly and holding out a hand to a shell-shocked looking Dameron. “I’m glad you won. You and your squadrons are welcome to drop in here for treatment if you ever require it and are close by. Free of charge”

Poe, for his part, has a LOT of thoughts at this moment. Part of him wants to jump up and arrest him immediately whilst another screams that he was a spy and was seriously harmed because of it. It’s neither of these things that eventually seals his reaction though. It’s the loving glance Armitage throws your way as you offer them both coffee, the expression rendering him almost unrecognisable when juxtaposed against the version he used to know.

“Thank you.” He finally chokes out. “I’m assuming you’re not known by your old names?” Given the whole living in peace and not being turned into the authorities and all that?”

Hux just laughs.

“You would be correct. We’re both going by Y/N’s mother’s maiden name.”

“Oh?”

“Yes” Armitage says, looking far too amused. “We’re Armitage and Y/N Organa.”

Poe’s jaw drops to the flood. How on EARTH was he going to explain any of this?

Turns out, after it became the top recommended med centre by all members of the Resistance, he didn’t have to. He just had to keep pretending he didn’t know Hux had survived and not let Finn anywhere near. Poe was good at keeping his mouth shut.

Strange galaxy you live in really. And you couldn’t be happier

#tropetember #fix it fic #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x reader #tw: injury #may get reworked #rough

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eddiesfaerie · 3 years

Text

Pet

Summary: You accompany the Supreme Leader to one of his meetings. Unsurprisingly, you become desperate for attention. (2.2k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: NSFW, noncon/implied noncon, f!reader, exhibitionism, memories of sex lol, thigh riding, canon typical violence, violence against reader??, Kylo Ren is not nice, choking, slapping, mentions of blood, bondage i guess (let me know if i missed anything!)

@elmidol: Kylo + “Tell them to fuck off.” okay so maybe i went off with this request... i literally couldn't help myself so i hope you enjoy!!!

The transparisteel of the throne room is always cold beneath your knees, you flinch anytime your thighs come into contact with it if you shift your position too much. It often left you with purpling bruises on your kneecaps, ones that never seem to fade anymore.

You accompany the Supreme Leader in any and every meeting he wants you in, which as of late, has been to every single one. If he asks for you, you’re there. At this point, you assume it’s just some form of punishment; because as much as you’re expected not to speak, you’re expected to stay awake and attentive.

Half the time you let your mind wander off into some fantasy. Sometimes it involves the Supreme Leader, remembering how he fucked you the night before, wondering if he’d do that thing with the Force again.

Other times it was about escaping. You were punished by him for both sorts of daydreams. Now you just try to keep your mind as blank as possible. Sometimes you almost manage to reach a meditative state if the meetings are long enough.

The air of his throne room is cold. Everyone else is dressed normally, of course. You don’t doubt that you’re the only one shivering in your own flesh. The thinnest scrap of useless silk cascades down your body, completely see-through and hides nothing of your body for anyone who dares sneak a glance in your direction.

Besides the scrap of material you think someone referred to as a dress once, the only other thing you wear is your collar and chain - a heavy, thick metal, one they definitely use on the ships and TIE fighters, you’ve concluded. It’s sturdy and basically indestructible to anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive.

The metal was branded ungraciously with anything but fancy letters or delicate swooping and curling. No, your Supreme Leader didn’t care to spoil you with niceties. Thick capital letters branded on to the front of the collar spelt out R-E-N.

Ren.

You're his. His thing, his object. Whatever he wants you to be, you became that. You belong to him. And you’ve long since accepted that. Once you stopped struggling, it became easier and at times… enjoyable.

You also think that the Supreme Leader’s become more comfortable around you as time has passed. He’s not as harsh with you anymore, not nearly as cruel as your first few weeks with him. He was nowhere near easy, or nice, or kind, or loving. He was none of that, but you were starting to like how sharp his edges were, how cold he could be.

It became a little game of yours; seeing how long it could take for you to crack him on certain nights, how long until he let you massage his shoulders, his arms, his thighs or let you suck his cock on your own accord. It’s rare but it actually works sometimes. Sometimes he lets you in.

If he’s tired enough, fucked out enough, or just had enough, he’ll let you do as you please, like a little fish cleaning up after the shark’s mess; he’ll let you have some scraps.

Sometimes, he hand feeds you the scraps. Like right now.

Your head is resting on his thigh as he sits back extremely reclined, leisurely, unbothered yet so, so bored. And his hand is on your skull, fingers scritching at your scalp.

It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You could fall asleep just like this -

But you can’t. The rule. The rule! You have to stay awake even though he’s visibly slacking right now, probably dozing off to some fantasy as he mindlessly scratches at your head.

You sneak a peek up in his direction only to find his eyes already on you. You nearly squeak as you look away, back at the people congregating in his throne room for whatever ‘important’ reason.

His eyes burn like suns, they welt and blister your skin and you try to clear your mind, making it a place of disinterest to him so he doesn’t feel the urge to go swimming in and around your thoughts as he so often does.

A quiet murmur resonates throughout the room, coming from no direction in particular, it’s just simply there. It’s the incoming of his voice through the Force, you know this now, you’ve become accustomed to it. It ripples towards you like tiny waves in a pond before you hear his voice clear and deep in your head.

“Come.”

His hand steadily leaves your scalp, coming to rest gently on his thigh; his way of asking you to come sit on his lap. He’s never asked this of you while in a meeting before, he never really cares to give you that much attention, fearing it'll give you an ego, make you think you're special or something.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, uselessly debating over something you have no say in.

Having already wasted enough of his energy on asking you politely, the Supreme Leader pulls on your chain, sending you hurling up off the ground and straight into his lap. You make an ugly noise, one of surprise and fear as you fall into him almost gracefully thanks to the tiny invisible touches of the Force along your skin.

He steadies you against him with one hand on your waist and the other pulling your chain tight, pinning your back to his wide chest. You straddle only one of his enormous thighs - bare cunt pressed flushed to the rough material of his pants - and he keeps you there, holds you still while you try to regain your breath from being moved so quickly yet so effortlessly.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the several pairs of eyes that are taking in the scene before them, trying to tame your nerves and swallow down your shame and embarrassment. You're so visibly flustered, no doubt the Supreme Leader's getting a kick out of this.

You hear more rippling murmurs approaching you. Then a smooth leathered hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh tight in his crushing grip.

“Eyes open, pet.”

You hesitate too long, still trying to regain your breath. That same hand on your thigh comes down hard, smacking your skin and letting the sound of slapped flesh and your wanton cry float through the room.

You try to curl towards him, to hide yourself in his broad frame but he holds you and your chain tight. His voice fills your head.

“You do as I say.”

You begin to answer him with a nod of your head but he cuts off your attempt.

“Out loud.”

You close your eyes and take in a deep, shuddering breath. Nothing could have prepared you for this unique type of degradation today. “Yes, sir.”

Only a few heads turn, no one daring to stare at you for too long. Like he had called you, you were his pet, that granted you some level of security.

The Supreme Leader makes some sort of contented sound with his throat. Whoever was speaking continues on with their speech while you finally manage to come down from such an overwhelming ordeal.

His hand stays on your thigh, tenderly massaging the flesh where he had hit you, emphasizing the sweet sting and letting it resonate throughout your body until it finds its way to your clit. The little pearl buzzes, needy for attention but you refrain from begging for mercy, for him to finish you off.

It's too easy for him to get you worked up. He must have been experimenting on you or something, like Pavlov's dogs or whatever. Anytime he touches you, even in the slightest, it sends you reeling for more, it turns you into some desperate whore, needy for whatever he would give you, whatever he deems you worthy of. Whether it was his spit or his flaccid cock in your mouth, you take it and accept it eagerly-

“Quiet.”

His sudden booming voice fills your head and sends you squeaking a silent apology back to him, your hips involuntarily jerking on his thigh. He pulls on your chain again, your back becoming flush with his chest, the length of your pussy dragging along his thigh leaving an embarrassingly sticky trail in its wake. You keen at the sensation, wondering if he was doing this to you on purpose.

“Doing what?”

You huff out a non-response, telling yourself you would roll your eyes right now if it wouldn’t get you-

“Punished.”

You audibly groan, rocking your hips onto his thigh on purpose this time. Fuck, he was so infuriating, so difficult to deal with. You’re thankful you’re just his plaything, not someone who has to deal with him professionally. He’s impossible.

You ignore the heads that turn in your direction this time and focus on the unsatisfying clench of your pussy around nothing. You know he feels it, feels the way your pussy is throbbing with its own heartbeat for him right now. He knows how desperate you are, he must…

Silence.

No response from him.

Maker, you could cry right now. He's usually so easy to rile up. So easy to frustrate, to annoy, to anger.

Yet he gave you no bruising grip on your thigh or waist, no warning for you to stop. Nothing.

His hand retreated from your thigh and now lounged on the armrest of his giant throne. His other hand doing the same. You feel the warmth radiating off of his chest leave you as he leans back against the throne. He was spreading himself out so wide and so far away from you.

You know he must still be wandering around in your mind, he has to be. There was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose.

So you project.

You imagine all the ways he’s taken you, all the places and surfaces he’s bent you over just to relieve his tension, his anger, not caring if you came or not. You often did but it was never with any special care from him, just the pure shock and intensity of his fat cock, impaling you over and over again until you couldn’t help but cum all over him and sob from overstimulation, begging for more despite the pain, despite the blood-

The lights in the room flicker and whoever’s speaking stutters at the sudden distraction, but then continues on discussing… whatever it was they’re discussing.

You continue as well, remembering all the different way he’s punished you: for accidentally chanting his name as if in prayer when you’ve become so cock drunk and fucked out that it was the only thing that you could possibly think of.

Kylo, Kylo, Kylo.

You remember how he’s slapped you, hit you with the unforgiving and weighted metal of his lightsaber hilt. How he’s bruised you, burned you, marked you with his teeth, his lips, his weapon. You remember it all and you shamelessly rut yourself against his thigh, the building pressure in your clit making your mind blank to anything else except getting yourself off on him.

Fuck, you need him. You need him so badly, need him like the moons need their planet, like a planet needs their all devouring sun, a celestial body to rotate around or else they become meaningless, drifting off into space without a serving purpose.

Your body withers against his, your back threatening to arch off his chest if it weren’t for the death grip he’s got on your chain right now, keeping you in place like an obedient dog.

The lights continue to flicker. The muruming waves return and you scramble for what’s about to come next.

“Tell them to leave.”

His voice is steady yet it crackles with hopeful embers threatening to combust into something fiery and deadly.

What?

The lights in the room buzz loud and shine brighter than they ever have, like the stars in the sky before something magnificent happens. They shriek with strain until they burst, sending shards of glass flying throughout the room as they burn out, no doubt cutting people in the process.

A figment flies by your cheek and slivers your skin. You hiss at the contact, feeling something hot and thick roll down your cheek in its wake.

“Tell them," his voice booms, "to fuck off.”

“L-leave.” You speak, voice small, unsure and terrified. You’re not certain if anyone even heard you based on the minimal reaction you got. A few heads turn, surprised to hear the timid voice of the Supreme Leader’s pet.

Yet no one budges.

Your Supreme Leader’s hand snakes its way up to your throat, resting above your thick metal collar and crushes your windpipe in warning. You try again, this time, like he asked.

“F-fuck off.”

Someone, an idiot, dares to speak up with a voice quivering worse than your own, “S-Supreme Leader?”

“You heard her.” It’s the first time he’s spoken in hours. His voice is terrifyingly calm and sickeningly deep, you feel it resonate throughout your entire body, landing in the depths of your belly. You whimper pathetically, anticipating whatever storm is about to come.

Everyone stands, chair scraping against the floor and they file out through the giant throne room doors, letting the thick and heavy material seal you two away until your Supreme Leader is through with you.

#ummm why am i really happy with how this turned out #kylo ren x reader #reader insert #smut #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #my writing #request #elmidol

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Hero | Luke Patterson

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Song Fic February Week 4: Musicals

Inspiration: StarStruck (DCOM)

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Anon suggested doing something with the Starstruck soundtrack, so I’m writing a whole-ass series. This is based off the plot of Starstruck but the reader was a fan of JATP until she met Luke... Basically crush to enemies to lovers! Also a modern!au.

The third installment of the StarStruck series!

StarStruck

Something About The Sunshine

Hero

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Luke x Fem!reader

Song(s) used: Hero - Christopher Wilde (StarStruck ST)

Warnings: few swear words, mention of car accidents, mention of child abuse, mention of postnatal depression, tiny bit of angst

Words: 8.6K

I’m almost nervous to see him again. There’s a nervous flutter erupting from the pit of my stomach and I feel hot and sweaty when it’s not even that warm out. The boy didn’t have that effect on me just a day ago and now he suddenly does? I hate this.

“Morning,” I greet when I find Luke standing outside the coffee shop with his hood pulled far over his head and sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. He shoots me a smile, but I don’t think he actually looks at me. Right, the whole “I can’t be seen with you”-thing.

“Want to go grab some coffee before we go?” I ask instead, pointing at the shop.

Luke nods his head and follows me inside where we wait in line together. The silence that hangs over us is uncomfortable for the first time. I don’t know why but his mysterious, secretive antics are making me nervous.

“Next!” the barista calls and the two of us step forward. The twenty-something woman shoots the both of us a polite smile, not even acknowledging that Luke’s keeping his head low. This is L.A., she’s probably used to it by now. “What can I get for ya?”

“An iced vanilla latte for me, please,” I say and then glance down at Luke.

He coughs. “Iced caramel macchiato.” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as though he’s telling the barista and me a secret. I’m glad we’re going to be out of the city soon, so Luke can go back to his regular self. Or to the singing-on-top-of-a-car-in-the-middle-of-nowhere self.

“What’s your name, please?”

“Y/N…” My eyes land on Luke for a split second, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even going to answer. Luke’s a pretty generic name, I’m sure people won’t even bother to look up. “Put my name on both, please.”

The barista smiles and then dashes off after I paid to start making our coffees while we shuffle towards the end of the counter, ready to take our drinks when they’re ready. Luke keeps his head down. He doesn’t even look up at me and the awkward silence doesn’t eb away.

“You’re not gonna talk to me yet, are you?” I ask him as I hand him one of the two straws I picked up. He shakes his head. I try my hardest not to groan and instead, hand him the keys to my car. “Here, get yourself settled in my car, I’ll handle this.”

His eyes peer over the rim of his sunglasses, flickering with uncertainty and gratefulness at the same time. I shoot him a smile, urging him to get out of here, which he does with a quick flash of his teeth.

The awkwardness quickly washes off me when he’s left the coffee shop and I’m all alone, hoping everything would change once we’re all alone, away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles’ residents.

“Iced vanilla latte and iced caramel macchiato for y/n,” the barista calls and places the cups on the counter in front of me.

I smile at her, say, “Thank you! Bye!” and then dart out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. I weave my way through hasty people and slacking tourists towards my Toyota Yaris where a hooded boy sits in my passenger seat. He still has his hood pulled up and his sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. He almost looks sad, which makes me a little sad too. I wish I could do more than let him wait in my car.

“Here you go,” I say and hand him his coffee when I’ve settled into my seat.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just for the beverage.

A smile etches its way to my cheeks as I regard him. “You’re welcome,” I say and then start the engine. As I pull out of the parking lot, Luke finally sparks up a conversation. I’m almost relieved to hear his voice again for more than two words.

“Where’re we going?” he asks.

I debate telling him but then decide I’d do it anyway. I’ve been researching a lot last night and have found the greatest secluded spots and the time slots when they’re mostly deserted or have the least visitors. The one I wanted to take him to today was a lot closer than the other ones, so I figured we could start with that.

“The Old L.A. Zoo. It’s less crowded before 9am, so I figured we could go explore it a bit until too many people arrive?” The statement comes out of my mouth as a question since I’m unsure whether or not he’d like that.

“Cool,” he replies, and he sounds honest, too. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.”

It surprises me a little, but I go with it anyway. “Really? I’ve been there plenty of times! It’s really cool! Kinda spooky.” Luke lets out an airy laugh at that and it makes my heart flutter a little.

Within ten minutes, we arrive at the old zoo. Ten minutes had gone by and yet it felt like a split second. The conversation ran fluently on our way there and Luke told me things about the band and his childhood that not even the biggest fangirl on earth could possibly know. I love talking to Luke about those seemingly uninteresting, small things.

The rest of the morning, too, goes by as if there’s no concept of time whatsoever. The two of us walk through the old, abandoned zoo and explore every single old habitat. I even find a website that tells us the entire history of each section of the zoo and as I read it, Luke listens and adds in his own commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in just a few hours. This guy is genuinely funny and I just adore talking to him. Our conversations go from the ridiculous to the serious, and every subject in between.

It’s just the perfect day that I wish would never end, but inevitably, Luke has his own responsibilities and has to go by lunch time.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the studio?” he asks with a smile as we’re making our way back to the car. “I’m in there all by myself, aside from our producer, and I’m recording a few songs.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, letting incomprehensible sounds roll out. It makes me look like a dumbfounded fish, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My brain is dysfunctioning for a moment. Luke Patterson is asking me to come to the studio with him. To watch him record some songs. Songs that are going to be on the album.

Luke’s laugh makes the gears in my brain fall back into place. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

A heat rises up to my cheeks. “Yeah,” I finally manage.

“Cool,” he says and then gets into the car.

The ride to the studio is filled with smooth conversation. We never miss a beat, there’s never an awkward silence between the two of us. Only when we arrive at the recording studio and we’re met with a huddle of paparazzi outside the door.

“Fuck,” he mutters and ducks down. I do the same, knowing he doesn’t want me to be seen with him either. “Drive around back,” he orders before fumbling into the glove compartment of my car. He retrieves a pair of sunglasses I kept there, along with a shawl of my mother’s that I didn’t know was still in there. “Put this on.”

“No,” I reply sternly, pushing his hand with the shawl away. I do take the sunglasses from his hand though, and push them onto my nose. “Put that shawl away,” I bark. The boy obeys and stuffs the piece of cursed fabric back where it came from.

Mental note: throw that out.

When we finally do get into the recording studio, as soon as I’m on Luke’s side, he grabs my hand and drags me into the building before anyone could ever spot us. I nearly stumble on my own feet, but quickly pick myself back up before I faceplant the floor.

Luke huffs. “Phew, that was close.”

He looks at me, and for a second, I think he might bring up the shawl again, but he doesn’t and instead turns to his producer, who had gotten up from his swivel chair the second we burst in.

“Connor!” Luke greets excitedly and shakes the man’s hand.

He looks near his thirties, strong built with flawless dark skin and a full head of afro hair. Combined with his extremely savvy outfit, I find him really cool-looking. He’s the kind of guy that would get all the girls in high school while still being a sweetheart.

“You brought some new flesh, I see,” Connor says to me and outstretches his hand for me to shake. I do so with a wide smile on my face while pretending not to be completely nervous about being in a recording studio for the first time.

“Y/N,” I introduce myself.

“Welcome to our little slice of heaven on earth, y/n.” My eyes flick to Luke, who’s giving me that look again, so I quickly turn back to Connor. “Any knowledge of recording studios, y/n?” he asks.

“Never been in one, but my friend is a producer and he did teach me some things.”

I hear Luke huff beside me. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I shoot him a wink as Connor beckons me towards his deck. For a while, Connor guides me through his paces while Luke gives the best of himself on this song.

After a few takes, Luke comes out of the booth and joins me and Connor to listen to what we’d recorded thus far. “What if –” I pause, debating my thoughts. “What if we go in with some soft backing vocals on here?” I click the part of the chorus we’d recorded and sing along with recorded Luke.

“'Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if your the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“I think if you put Julie on those backings, it could give that duet-vibe you guys are so good at.” I notice Connor and Luke glance at each other, soft smiles playing on both their lips.

“Why don’t you show us?” Connor asks as Luke already grabs my hand.

“What?! Me? No! Julie.”

Luke chuckles and drags me into the booth with him. “Yeah, but we’re gonna need a demo, don’t we?” He delicately places a set of headphones on my head before placing one on his own. He signals to Connor and no later than 2 seconds, the instrumental version of the song blasts through the headphones.

Gazing at me, Luke starts singing the first verse of the song, and I let him. It almost feels like he’s serenading me. Almost. All that’s missing is a guitar or a boombox over his head.

“I'm no superman I can't take your hand And fly you anywhere you want to go Yeah I can't read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you want to hear But I'll be your hero”

From the chorus onwards, I jump in with backing vocals wherever I feel like it’s acceptable without taking my eyes off of Luke.

“I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Oh I'll be your hero” “Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Yeah I'll be your hero”

“So incredible Some kind of miracle That's what it's meant to be I'll become a hero So I wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

We keep our eyes locked at the high note too, smiles plastered on our faces from ear to ear. Singing with Luke gives me some kinda rush. A feeling I can’t quite describe but it’s a feeling I want to feel more often.

“Yeah, I'll be your hero Yeah”

“Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, Yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy with and soul But if you're the one for me I'll be your hero”

“Yeah, I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me”

“Yeah I'll be your hero”

The music fades out in our headphones, and soon, Connor’s applause sounds through it instead. I’m snapped back into reality, away from cloud 9, away from the pure bliss that’s singing with Luke and gazing into his eyes.

“That was amazing! Good job, guys!” Connor says, beaming.

Luke and I remove our headphones and he grabs my hand to lead me back to the decks where Connor welcomes us with open arms and a wide smile.

“I thought you and Julie were the most watchable duetters, but I’ve been proven wrong.”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks before Luke snaps me out of it again.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Con. Can you send the finished product to the band and our manager? I’m sure they’d like to hear this. Don’t tell them who’s on backing vocals, though. They don’t need to know that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and try to convince myself it’s probably not that deep. Luke doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not even by his band mates. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

We wrap up the recording session and I drive Luke back to the coffee shop where he looks behind him and out of every single one of the windows, just to be sure the coast is clear of paparazzi.

“Thanks for the day, y/n. I really enjoyed spending time with you again.”

I force a smile. Ever since his statement to Connor about not wanting the band to know about me, I’ve been going over everything in my mind and it has caused me to fold in on myself.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

He gazes at me for a moment, inspecting every inch of my face as if detecting the lie from my eyes. When I think he’s just going to bid his goodbyes and get out, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his body to me and reaches for his phone. I watch as he unlocks it and taps away on it before turning the device towards me. There’s a new contact form open on his screen.

“Gimme your number. I’d love to do this again some day.”

I furrow my brow while taking the phone in my hands. “Do you even have time to spend days with a nobody like me?” I don’t dare look at him and keep my eyes on the screen as I type my name and number.

He doesn’t say anything either until I finally cave and look up when giving his phone back. There’s a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

“You’re not a nobody, y/n. I’d gladly make time for you. I told you, I loved spending days away from reality. Especially with you.” Fangirl Me is jumping out of my skin while Present Me tries to keep her cool and ignore all of the butterflies that erupt in her stomach.

“Cool,” Present Me says out loud while Fangirl Me is scolding her so hard.

Cool? Cool?! Seriously? Dude.

“I’ll text you, yeah?”

I nod my head in response and watch as he gets out of my car. Before I can even place my foot on the gas or shift out of park, my phone beeps in the pocket of my sweater. For the first time in forever, I smile when seeing an unknown number on my screen.

As I look out of my window, I find Luke looking at me with his hood pulled over his head again. He shoots me a quick smile and a wave before I turn to my phone again and type a reply.

I whip my head up to see his reaction. His jaw drops before his face turns into a scowl as he glares at me. Giggling and satisfied with the reaction, I place my phone on the passenger’s seat where Luke was sitting before and then pull out of the parking spot.

That night, I save Luke’s number to my phone. I go between “Luke P.”, “Patterson” and “Luke ❤��” but eventually decide on the funnier option and save him as “Poo Musician 💩”.

I stand in line at the coffee shop before 8:30 that morning and I’m a little nervous. Last night when I returned from my day with Luke, the two of us had been texting back and forth. I felt like a sixteen year old again. One of those giggly teenagers that’s texting their crush. Which is what I was, but it’s been a while since I felt like it.

Once I have an iced vanilla latte and an iced caramel macchiato, I head outside where I find a boy waiting by my car. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt paired with a bright blue sleeveless sweater, his hood pulled far over his head so his face is hidden from prying eyes.

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s Luke. I’d recognize those muscles from a mile away. The way he’s leaning against the hood of my car and the way he’s holding his phone is a dead giveaway too.

“Your coffee, sir,” I say in a serious, deep voice.

Luke’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights until he notices it’s just me and relaxes. A smile etches onto his face as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans whilst taking the coffee I ordered for him with his other hand.

He takes a cautious sip from the beverage. “Hm, Caramel Macchiato, someone’s been stalking me.” I know he’s just teasing, I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes have that childlike glint in them.

Making my way to the driver’s side of my car, I smile and say, “Contrary to popular belief, Patterson, I’m not a stalker. I just remembered your order from yesterday.”

Luke’s smile tells me something I’d rather not think about. It’s like he’s saying “You remembered my order” in that flirty way only he knows how to. I simply shrug before opening my door and getting in with Luke following my example. Without missing a beat, he fishes my phone from between my fingers and grabs my free hand to use my thumb to unlock my phone. This time, I don’t object and let him. I know that it’s just to get to my music app anyway.

While Journey’s Anyway You Want It plays through the car’s speakers, I pull out of the parking spot in front of the coffee shop and start driving to the next location I’d found during my research the other night.

“Where’re we going?” he asks, and I flashback to yesterday when he asked me the exact same question in that exact same way.

I smile as I place my cup in the cupholder between the two of us. “You’ll see.” I glance over, finding him tilting his head slightly and giving me that ‘Really?’ look. “I promise it’s very secluded and not a lot of people will be there.”

“Cool,” he says and sips. “Is this where you’re going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I bet you could get a lot of money for a Julie and The Phantoms band member.”

I snort at his remark. “How much do you think I could get for you?”

He scrunches up his nose in thought, which I catch as I take a quick glance at him again. As I face the road again, I reach for my coffee and take a quick sip, awaiting Luke’s response to my question.

“Like 10k?”

I nearly spit out my coffee. “10k?!” I screech, and his laugh thunders through my car. “Careful or I’ll actually kidnap you and hold you for ransom if I’m gonna earn that much.”

The laughter dies down and after a few moments of silence lingering in the air, Luke says, “How much do you think I’m worth?”

Without missing a beat, I respond to his question, dead serious. “Not even a dollar.”

Luke gasps, his mouth dropping in absolute disbelief while I can’t help but cackle loudly. Judging from this conversation alone, I’m positive today will be a good day. A good, fun day.

“I’m worth more than a dollar, right?”

“No, you’re right, I’d probably ask like a million and then no one will pay the ransom and you’ll have to stay with me for the rest of your life.”

I let out my best maniacal laughter as I feel him watch me. I know the exact look he’s giving me. The look. The one with the glistening eyes and the slightly turned up lips. The one all girls and gays swoon for. The one I would swoon for if I’d turn my head right now. But I don’t. For once in my life, I’m smart and keep my eyes on the road.

“You like me,” he states proudly.

“Slightly less strong dislike.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I’m hoping Luke won’t notice. Or at least not acknowledge it because I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

“I’ll take it.”

He reaches forward and turns the volume up as Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” floats through the speakers. Very loudly, and very obnoxiously, the boy begins to sing along. If it wasn’t for the velvet smooth voice, I would’ve scolded at him to keep it down. But the sound actually makes my toes curl and my stomach flutter. For a verse, I let him sing by himself while I enjoy his performance but by the chorus, I can’t withhold myself and sing along with him.

The rest of the ride is filled with belting of the road trip tunes, laced with patches of small talk. It’s the perfect car ride, and before we know it, we’ve arrived at our destination. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area. The parking lot is practically empty, aside from two cars, which I’m assuming are the staff’s. It’s the perfect indication that I picked the right spot to go to, and I can tell Luke knows it too.

He’s bouncing in his seat, either from excitement or the amount of sugar that was in his iced coffee, and when I turn off the ignition and turn to him, he looks at me with the widest smile plastered on his face. He almost looks like an excited toddler on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents.

“I came here once with my parents when I was younger,” he tells me, “I love this place.”

His confession makes me smile. “Good because I’ve been scouring the internet for the perfect place.” He shoots me the look again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to kiss me.”

He shrugs, “Maybe I want to.”

“So you want me to slap you?”

His smile fades away immediately. “Let’s go,” he grumbles and quickly gets out.

I heave in a deep breath, recollecting myself before getting out too and retrieving the backpack I brought, filled with stuff for today. Including my itinerary – or just a notebook filled with some ideas I had.

“How about we start with a bike ride across the park?” I suggest, pointing at the bike rental shop I found on Google the other night.

We walk into the rental place, expecting there to be bikes upon bikes but instead, we’re met with kayaks, pedal boats and go-karts. My eyebrows furrow, creasing my forehead as I look around the space. Why’s this called a bike rental when there are technically no bikes to rent? No actual bikes.

“I thought we were going for a bike ride?” Luke says, teasingly. I look up at him, and I think my face tells him enough about my knowledge about this place. My research clearly wasn’t sufficient.

Deciding to just roll with the circumstances, I roll my shoulders back and put a smile on my face. “Yeah, we’re going on a bike ride with one of these!” I say and point to the large, green go-kart. One of those that look like an old-school car at the front and have children’s seats in front of the terribly cushioned seats for adults. The ones with the small plastic wheel and bike pedals for two adults. I remember going on one of those big ones for six people with my family.

“You’re serious?” Luke asks, his eyes wide.

Instead of answering, I shoot him a smile before stepping forwards towards the staff member at the counter. The woman behind the counter looks no older than 45 and has long, billowing blonde locks that cascade down her shoulders. Her bright blue piercing eyes glisten as they land on the two of us, clearly glad she sees some customers so early in the day.

“Good morning,” she greets with a smile, “We open in half an hour.”

“Oh…” My research has been poor.

Before I can possibly think of an answer, Luke steps forward and flashes the woman a smile. I’m not sure if he’s going to use his manly charms or if he’s going to pull the “Don’t you know who I am?” card.

“Can’t you… make an exception for us?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter as he looks at the woman through his lashes. The woman looks up at Luke, her face like stone. She doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t fall for his charms either.

Shaking my head, I spring into action. I quickly change the ring on my index finger to my ring finger and wrap my arm around Luke’s bicep while the other rests on his chest, making sure the ring is as visible as can be. As I flutter my eyelashes at the woman, I let the words tumble out of my mouth.

“Please, ma’am? It’s our one year engagement anniversary and he was going to take me on this romantic bike ride….” I then lean forward over the counter. “He’s not very good at researching our dates, but he tries.”

The woman’s eyebrows knit together as her eyes dart from me to Luke and back.

“Aren’t you guys a little young to be engaged?”

Luke jumps into the improvisation spot. “We’ve been told that a lot but we’ve been best friends for years and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” He looks down at me and when I glance up, too, he kisses the tip of my nose, which I then scrunch.

I ignore the flutters in my stomach and face the woman again. She seems to have softened, her eyes less icy than it was before. Then, she turns to her computer and clicks through a few browsers before facing us again.

“What do you guys want? The Surrey?” She points to the green bike-thing at the front of the shop. I nod my head in response. “Okay. You’ve got it for two hours for the price of one hour.”

A smile etches its way to my face. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Luke pays the woman the rental fee and then she helps us get Surrey out of the garage. After bidding our goodbyes, Luke and I pedal off on the bike.

“One year engagement, really?” Luke asks me when we’re far enough from the rental and I switch my rings back around.

“Well, whatever you were doing didn’t work.”

He scoffs. “It was working.”

We pedal down the winding road with the wind blowing through our hair. I love how warm the breeze is and how the birds are chirping in the trees around us. This is the perfect day to go out and do this.

“What exactly were you planning to do?” I ask him, glancing up at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead of us, a comfortable smile resting on his lips while his eyes flick from one side to another, taking everything in.

He glances down at me, the smile turning into a smirk. “I was going to charm her with my manly wiles.”

“And how was that working for ya?”

For a second, we lock eyes. Luke has an annoyed look on his face while I can’t help but have my lips curl up on one side into a smirk. When he whips his head forward again, I notice the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks.

Did I just make Luke Patterson blush?

“So,” he coughs. “Whatcha wanna do?”

I shrug. “We could play twenty questions? Get to know each other better.”

He nods his head in response. “You wanna start?”

“That’s your first question?”

“That’s yours?”

I press my lips together, shutting myself up for just a moment before recomposing myself. I’m not going to lie, I totally Googled some questions to ask in a game of 20 questions. So, I’m prepared.

“If you had to be trapped on a deserted island with one of your friends, who would you pick and why?” Luke’s eyes widen at the question a little.

“Woah, straight in! I thought you were gonna start with ‘favorite color’ or something.” He chuckles lightly, and so do I. “Uhm… Not Alex, he’d probably be super anxious and pace all the way across the island and make me nervous. Not Reggie either, he’d be singing country songs the entire time, though he is a great cuddler. Maybe Julie? Though she’s gonna be miserable without Flynn….”

With every thought he says out loud, my smile grows bigger and bigger.

“You?” My heart leaps in my chest at his answer. “Yeah, I like spending time with you and what better place to get away from real life than a deserted island, right?”

Without missing a beat, the next words pour out of my mouth. “It’s cute how you think we’re friends now.” I surprise myself with the words I speak. We are friends, but I like winding him up into thinking we’re not.

“Friends who wanna kiss each other.”

Ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks, I reply, “You mean kill?”

Luke shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “When are you going to admit that you like me?”

“Never – Next question.”

“Uhm… What was the last thing you stole or shoplifted?” he asks and I’m glad he doesn’t push any further on the fact I basically admitted that I like him.

“Oh! A magnet in a tourist shop in Lanzarote,” I reply, giggling a little at the memory. “I was there with a couple of friends during Spring Break and those magnets cost way too much for what they are and there was like a rack outside the shop. So, I shoplifted an overpriced Lanzarote magnet.”

Luke throws his head back as he laughs, nearly steering us into the bushes. “That’s amazing,” he cackles.

We cruise through the entire park for two entire hours, asking each other questions, and after returning the Surrey, we walk towards the lake where we settle down onto the blanket I brought for some food. I’d prepared an entire picnic basket for us to enjoy during our lunch.

“I find it very cute that you made an entire picnic basket for our first date.”

I smile. “I find it very cute that you think this is a date.”

He gives me the look again, but I ignore it and get every piece of food out of my backpack, sprawling it out around us. Sandwiches, chopped up vegetables and fruits, muffins,... All the delicious foods you’d find in a picnic.

“Tell me more about your childhood,” Luke then says as he takes a chicken sandwich and takes a bite. “You don’t talk about it much.”

My heart drops into my stomach. I wish he wouldn’t ask about that. Talking about my childhood means talking about my mother and I’ve been trying to avoid that for the past years. Not that many of my friends even know about that.

“I told you plenty.”

“You talked about your teenage years, but never about your childhood.”

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to shut up about this until I tell him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t love talking about what happened with my mother. It’s something I’d much rather forget.

“There’s a reason for that,” I reply pointedly and then shut myself up by taking a sip from the box of orange juice. I’d packed one for the both of us, but I’m the only one who’s opened it already as Luke had gone straight in with the sandwiches.

Luke stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. His eyes pierce through my soul and give me a sense of comfort. They lift a weight of my shoulders and chest that I hadn’t even noticed were there. His eyes feel like coming home. Comfortable. A place to relax. A place to be me, be myself.

I heave in a deep breath and place my juice box on my nervously bouncing knee, holding it with my hand. It doesn’t stop the bouncing, so now my whole body is practically shaking along with the movement.

“I–” I stop myself, reconsidering my words. “My childhood wasn’t the sunshine and roses it’s supposed to be.” I chuckle nervously and when I meet Luke’s eyes again, they’re looking at me with such intent that I almost launch forward and kiss him. But I don’t.

“Mom was… difficult to live with…” I start cautiously, not even daring to look at Luke as I speak and keep my eyes on the still lake in front of us. “She uhm… After I was born, she kinda went into postnatal depression. She didn’t take care of me, she barely even looked at me… At one point, it went so far that she got into an accident, on purpose, with me in the back. She did it a few times, even, to the point where dad just had to report it. She was admitted to the psych ward and that was that... I was ten at the time.” I swallow to hold back the tears that are pricking behind my eyes.

Feeling a soft brush of the hand on my knee, I glance up, meeting Luke’s eyes. They give me that sense of comfort again, that sense of home, the reassurance that I’m okay.

“We haven’t really seen her since. She’s out of our lives…” I sniffle and place my hand over Luke’s, giving it a thankful squeeze. “I don’t like talking about it.”

Luke carefully laces his fingers through mine, his cold rings cooling my warm hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” I shrug dismissively. “But thank you for telling me.”

“So, tell me,” I lift our entwined hands for a second as though pulling us back into reality. “How did Sunset Curve-slash-Julie and The Phantoms came to be?”

Luke chuckles before engulfing our locked hands with his other and tumbling into the origin story of the bands he was in. He talks about meeting Reggie and Alex in primary school, and then meeting Bobby in middle school. He explains how they started the band in music class and then continued playing together until Bobby moved away from Los Angeles. The story then lapses into giggles and chuckles about all the things they tried to keep Sunset Curve alive, but terribly failed.

“But then we met Julie in high school and – the rest is history.”

We’re clearing up our mess before making our way back towards the car. I love hearing Luke talk, especially about the band. It makes his eyes light up and he gets all bouncy and enthusiastic. It’s the cutest side of Luke I ever did see in the past few days of hanging out with him.

I take one last look at the lake where tiny dots of humans are floating along on the lake in their tiny boats. There are just a few, so nothing to worry about, but it does make me want to go kayaking too. Mostly because I don’t want the day to end.

“Wanna go kayaking?” I ask Luke, pulling him to a halt by tugging at our still intertwined hands. His eyes dart from mine to the lake and back. I can tell he’s debating it, but then he nods and a smile appears on his face.

With our hands intertwined, we go back to the rental place and ask the woman for a double kayak. We pay, put on the safety vests she’s given us and then proceed onto the water. As we pedal along, Luke tells me about all the adventures he’s been on with his friends and how he used to do this all the time before his schedule got so crazy.

Every now and again, he stops and pretends to tip the kayak, making me squeal each and every time whilst he laughs his most maniacal laugh.

The wall I’d built around my heart was slowly crumbling. Every laugh, every touch, every glance took away a small part of the brick wall. I’m falling in love with the boy I’d had a crush on and then strongly disliked for a good five-ish days.

Getting distracted was not a good idea as I’m not prepared for what follows next. Luke pretends to tip it over again, but this time, he wobbles too hard and actually makes the boat topple overhead. I squeal, but quickly shut my mouth as I tumble into the water, making sure not too much of the lake’s contents gets into my body.

“Patterson!” I scowl as I crash the surface again and find Luke laughing a few feet away. His brown, shaggy hair sticks to his head, dripping small drops of water onto his face. If I wasn’t so angry at him, I would definitely kiss him right here, right now.

“I hate you!” I splash some water at him as the words roll off my lips. Luke’s laughter abruptly stops and he stares at me. His once glistening eyes dull down while his mouth falters into a frown.

“You do?”

My face softens as I watch him. He looks so beautiful with his hair all dishevelled and the reflection of the sun on the water mirroring onto his face. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad.

I swim closer towards him and stroke his wet hair out of his face. My breath hitches in my throat at how close we are but I try to play it off by keeping my hands on his face and my eyes locked with his. I notice his eyes flicking down to my lips a few times, telling me he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him.

Should I? Full throttle? Or step on the brakes?

I don’t even get the time to think about it as Luke presses his lips to mine. Now I don’t hesitate a single moment and immediately kiss him back. Sliding my hands into his wet locks and pressing my body as close as I can, I melt entirely into him. The same sense of bliss I have when singing with Luke washes over me and I find myself on cloud 9 again.

We pull back after a moment to catch our breath. The glint in his eyes is back and his mouth, though a little swollen and red, curls up into a smile. He presses one more kiss to my nose before helping me towards the shore. We climb out of the water and bring the boat back to the rental place, along with our safety vests.

Grabbing my backpack I had left with the woman for safekeeping, Luke and I bid our goodbyes and leave the rental, intertwining our hands again. The feeling his hand in mine gives me will never get old.

As we get to the car again, I yawn, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Luke smiles upon noticing this and takes the keys from my hand. Wordlessly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and then leads me to the passenger side. He opens the door and lets me get in before shutting the door and jogging to the other side.

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, just the crackling of a song playing on the radio filling out the quietness. I rest my head against the headrest and glance at Luke every now and again as he drives Sabrina. He has that one-hand feel on the steering wheel and the other rest comfortably in mine on the gearshift.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I mumble, unable to speak any louder.

A smile etches its way to Luke’s face. “Me too.” He takes a quick glance at me and then lifts our hands to plant a kiss on my knuckles. “Our band’s house is closer, you want to stop there and get us dry before you go home?”

I hum softly, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. Luke’s thumb grazing the back of my hand almost lulls me to sleep until he curses before the car comes to a halt. He pulls his hand away from mine and when I look up, the driveway and street in front of the enormous white-brick house is filled with dozens of cars.

“Fuck, I forgot about the album wrap party,” he grumbles and then looks over at me. I’m shivering from the cold and exhaustion. “I can’t let you drive home like that.”

I’m unsure if he’s talking to me or pondering out loud, but I shake my head instead. “It’s fine,” I say. “My house isn’t that far away… I think…”

“No, y/n. I’m not letting you drive home exhausted and cold.” His voice is stern, yet laced with a bit of worry. “You’re gonna come in and I’m– I’m gonna bring you up to my room. You can dry off there and maybe take a nap or something. Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” He sounds way too excited about something so banal.

He hops out of the car and quickly jogs over to my side whilst I’m already opening the door. Before I could react, he tugs me towards the house. I can barely get my bearings or take the time to look where I’m going before I’m pulled into a room.

“There are shirts and joggers in the dresser over there, pick out whichever you like and then take a nap or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my cheek and then dashes towards the door.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?”

He lets go of the door handle and slowly turns towards me. His eyes are laced with regret as he takes in the sight in front of him. I must look ridiculous with my hair and clothes wet and bags under my eyes.

“Please, y/n? I can’t have people know about us, okay? I just – can’t…”

Turning on his heel, he opens the door and leaves me in his bedroom all alone. I take a minute to let the information process in my brain before turning around and taking in the room I’m in.

The walls are painted white, except for the one wall behind his bed that’s a muted dark blue. His bed is king size and on either side is a nightstand. I inch closer to the one that’s actually filled with stuff, which I’m assuming is the one he uses most. Nightstand contents often tell a lot about a person. His contains the band’s autobiography, “Bruce Springsteen: All The Songs” and “Beach Read” by Emily Henry, the book I started the other week and shared on Instagram Stories.

Would he have seen that and decided to read it too?

Shaking the ridiculous thought out of my head, I move over to his dresser and take out a pair of joggers and his Rush muscle tank I’ve seen him in many a time during gigs. I peel my drenched clothes off my body and get into Luke’s freshly washed ones. They smell of his laundry products. It’s a fresh and calming scent.

For a while, I look around his room. The books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls, most of which of the band and some of him and Carrie Wilson. There had been a rumor about him dating the Instagram Influencer, but I’d never believed it until I saw her face pop up in some of the framed photos in his room.

I decide to go and venture about the house since all the commotion seems to be outside in the garden. I weave through hallway upon hallway, finding more photos and more things that belong to the band. The living room walls are adorned with platinum records and other awards they’d won over the two years they’d been active in the music industry. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride rush over me. That’s my favorite band right there. That’s the boy I’ve fallen in love with.

“Excuse me – Who are you?”

The voice makes me jump out of my skin. I thought everyone was outside. When I look up, I find the perfectly flawless face of Carrie Wilson. Her long, blonde hair cascades into curls down her shoulders and back while her round, brown eyes stare at me with intent and curiosity.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. I–” I stop myself, remembering Luke didn’t want anyone to know about us. That includes his girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend.

Carrie’s mouth curls up into an amused, curious smile, catching onto what’s happening. “You’re Luke’s new adventure, aren’t you?” I huff out the breath I was holding. It’s a telling huff, I’m sure. “You are…” She trails off and inspects me for a second before continuing. “Just so you know, it’s not going to work. Luke’s too infatuated with this lifestyle of his. He loves his job, he loves his stardom. He loves it too much to ever focus on a partner. Believe me, we tried.”

I exhale at the use of her past tense, but then all the other information downs on me. Luke’s life is so much different from mine. While I work several jobs to pay for college and still live with my dad, he lives by himself and tours the world. He’s too busy to start anything serious with me. Whatever happened in the last few days was just temporary.

“You seem sweet, y/n, so I’m going to be frank. Get out before it’s too late. You’re only gonna get hurt if you’re gonna stay.” As she passes me, she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

If my brain wasn’t going a mile a second about everything she’s telling me, I would be caught off guard by how sweet Carrie Wilson is. She’s always portrayed as this complete ego-centric bitch who used people to her advantage.

The exhaustion taking over, I shuffle back upstairs and sit down on Luke’s bed but when I hear the commotion outside die down and guitar strums float through the air into the house, I grow curious. I get up from the bed and make a beeline towards the ceiling-to-floor glass doors that give out onto a balcony. I carefully open the door and step out, the summer breeze tickling my skin while Luke’s voice reaches my ears.

The balcony looks out onto the garden, it’s just out of sight from where everyone’s huddled up around the band. I lean my elbows on the bannister and watch on as Luke’s voice floated through the air.

“I'm no superman I can take your hand And fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah I can read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you wanna hear, but I'll be your hero”

I smile at the memory of us in the studio yesterday. The last few days have been perfect. Just… Perfect. And now this girl has to come and ruin it by pulling me back into reality.

“Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be a hero Oh, I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero”

It’s not that Carrie isn’t right. She is. Luke is way too busy with the band and his fame and everything around it. He doesn’t have time or room between those things for me. Not for an ordinary girl. Not for anyone.

“So incredible Some kinda miracle That when it's meant to be, I'll become a hero, oh So I'll wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

Luke’s eyes meet mine as he hits that high note and his mouth curls up into that beautiful smile I’ve come to love. Once again, I’ve fallen in love with someone who would never reciprocate those feelings. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to get hurt.

“Yeah I'll be a hero Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me I'll be a hero Yeah, yeah I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero Hero”

As the last notes of his song ring out into the night, I grab my still wet clothes and my keys Luke left on the dresser, and then leave the house. My heart breaks with every step I take, but I know it’s what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for both of us. There’s no room for me in his life. Like he said, he’s no superman, he can’t handle this many things at once. Not even a hero would be able to.

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@wanniiieeee @phantompogues

JATP taglist:

@hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @charliesmountains @thedarkqueenofavalon @calamitykaty @caitsymichelle13 @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @stellasmusa @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @crybabyddl @headheartbellarke @authentic-gillespie @happinessinthedarkesttimes @bright-molina @rangerelik @cordeliascrown @willex-owns-my-heart @fangirlangioma @frickin-bats @flower-name @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jandthephantoms @kelpwithawhy @the-hufflepuff-hunter @lookingthroughmirrors @buckybarnesishot310 @echocharm17618 @littlemissaddict @mystic-writings @joynerxmercer @brooke0297 @magicalxdaydream @musicianspiritsblog @bexxy @ruvaitkevicius @whitetigerlover17 @stressyanddepressysimp @talk-on-the-street @theolivekiddo @sunsetcurvej @teti-menchon0604 @candycornmgg @gray_jato

Charlie/Luke taglist:

@lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans @rachmmb @whitemanshoe19 @killerqueenfan

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatpsongficfeb #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke jatp #luke patterson x fem!reader #modern!au #StarStruck

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dont-cry2020 · 4 years

Note

daddy!harry fucking you awake in the morning, your laying on your stomach with Harry’s hand holding you down on your lower back pounding into you. When you wake up your a moaning mess trying to grind your ass back into his cock trying to match his rhythm he then ask “you like daddy using your little body like this for his own pleasure don’t you princess? “And all you can do is nod and try to form a sentence but your so overwhelmed with wanting to cum you can’t , all you can do is moan.

i forgot how to breathe reading this

once again if youre 12 pls dont read lmao